The Fourth Realm
by The Great and Powerful Keski
Summary: Anna is an Ebon Gray Jeweled Black Widow and Queen enslaved to Dorothea. But when a man sporting both Black Jewels and dragon's wings offers her a chance at freedom, her entire world is turned upside down. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1: Slaves

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter I

Slaves

---

Alnevar spread his wings and ignored the hot, sandy air, instead choosing to enjoy this brief chance to spread his dark, membranous wings and let them dry. It was hot out here at night, hot out here during the day, hot out here constantly. Pruul was never anything else. He was forbidden to use his wings, "Lady" Zuultah fearing he would fly away, managing somehow to overcome the pain of the Ring of Obedience.

Right now, at midnight, he could fly. If he started now, he'd be long gone by the time anyone noticed his absence. Perhaps too far for the controlling ring to reach his own Ring of Obedience.

But he couldn't leave. He had to wait. Althemen… This was Althemen's test, his trial. The Black Widow had said so. Just as she'd said that Caelar…

Caelar… pathetic excuse for a father. All the better that he was dead now. If he had still been alive, Alnevar would have broken free of slavery just to go kill the bastard. Always heaping honors on Althemen just because he was a Warlord Prince and one Jewel rank darker than Alnevar. Never mind that Althemen had been born with ridiculously small wings that more closely resembled bats' wings than Eyriens'.

No, Alnevar had been backstabbed by Althemen, the one man Alnevar had always trusted, and sold into slavery. Two hundred years ago. Alnevar tried not to hold grudges, but this was a big grudge, and two centuries was a long time for wounds to heal… or fester.

Alnevar shook his head. He turned his head to look back at the slave compound and smirked. Queen Zuultah was a fool to think the spells on the compound walls would keep a Gray Jeweled Half-Eyrien Warlord in. He came out here almost every night, and no one had ever caught him. As far as he was concerned, it was an invitation to keep doing it. He folded his wings reluctantly and turned around.

"Damn," he muttered as he walked back to the compound and passed through the wall, ready to sleep the rest of the night away before he had to endure another blistering day of mining salt.

"You'll die by my hand, Althemen."

---

The air just in front of the Kaeleer Dark Altar shimmered slightly. The stone slab changed to a dark mist, and through the mist stepped… something. Several somethings.

The first something was feral, wild. Its eyes glittered with unrestrained hunger. It resembled a human to some extent, but it also resembled a wolf. It was covered in thick white fur, and had an elongated face. Its eyes were pushed apart far too much to be human, and the teeth which protruded from its drawn-back lips were sharp, pointed fangs. Its hands also much resembled paws. It wore no clothing, but was covered by the thick white fur.

The second creature was more humanoid, at least at first glance. It… he… stood upright, his pale skin offset by his black and red tuxedo under the black cape that fell about his shoulders. His silky, straight, black hair fell to his shoulders and drew no attention away from his life-sized black dragon wings. His eyes, however, drew attention away from everything else. They were green, but aside from that, they were piercing, soul-freezing things that looked as if they would--and indeed, they probably could--read a man's very soul.

The third creature was difficult to identify, for it never stopped shifting, moving, changing, warping. It seemed to consist solely of shadows, but it had gleaming crimson eyes and its claws were black like the rest of it but different, for they glinted with a malevolence that both threatened and enticed. It emitted low, squeaking noises akin to a guinea pig.

The dragon-man looked around briefly and narrowed his green eyes. "Follow," he said, speaking in the Blood's Old Tongue with a deep, intimidating voice.

The shadow creature screeched and writhed excitedly. "Where'ss the girl, Lusseik?" it squeaked in the Old Tongue with a slightly sibilant voice. "How long until we can go back home?"

Luseik held up a long-clawed hand. "We shall stay until we find the girl, and we shall not return sooner."

"I know, I know, but thiss Realm feelss… dirty. I don't like it."

"It is not an unadulterated extension of the Darkness, as our own Dachrea is. That is why. Do not let it worry you, Keski."

Keski hissed. "I feel tainted jusst being here."

"Enough of your griping!" the wolf creature snarled abruptly, and spun to face the little creature. "We're here to find the Ebon-Gray Jeweled Black Widow, not to listen to a half-grown gejk whine about leaving its home Realm!"

Keski hissed defensively, abruptly growing to thrice its size. Its claws extended as well, glimmering dangerously.

Furious, Luseik stepped between them, the Black Jewel that swung from his neck glinting angrily. "Keski, Satiyen! Cease this foolishness now!" When he got no response, his wings flared to their full, massive span and he roared, the sound of a full-grown, enraged dragon emerging from his man's throat. The two cowered, their argument forgotten. "Lord Versiver and Lady Kennesra," he growled, his voice still not having returned to normal, retaining the deep, gravelly quality of a dragon's cry, "sent us here to work as a group. You two are not going to betray the trust they placed in us by tearing each other apart over a simple argument!"

No response. Luseik folded his wings and exited the Dark Altar.

Keski glared at Satiyen and followed Luseik.

Satiyen snarled and trailed behind.

---

Althemen's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. His Ebon-Gray Jewel flashed with barely contained rage.

"If you fancy keeping all of your limbs," he said too softly to the Yellow Jeweled Prince across the desk, "leaving would be a wise choice."

The Prince took the excuse to hastily exit the room.

Althemen barely had time to place a shield around the interior of the room as well as himself before he found himself diving at breakneck speed into the abyss, almost not stopping when he reached the level of his Ebon-Gray Jewels. The second he reached the level, though, he unleashed the raw power into the room. The temperature rose slightly, but the room was unharmed.

He waited for a moment, then dropped the shields.

"Well, that is a convenient way to vent rage."

He picked up the note again, addressed to him in feminine script, his hand shaking in rage and grief and pain and bloodlust and a dozen other emotions. Finally, he slammed the note onto the desk.

"Anna…" he whispered.

He pulled a sheet of paper out of a drawer and began to write furiously.

---

The quarter-Eyrien, wingless, female slave cowered under the guard.

"Think you can make a fool of me, eh?" the guard sneered, giving her another kick in the ribs.

"No--Please--stop--!" Anna whimpered. The guard kicked her again. Finally, another guard entered the room and grabbed the first.

"What are you doing?"

"This little tart pissed me off. I'm teachin' her a lesson."

"Well, Dorothea wants to see her, so lay off."

The first guard growled and left the room. The new one looked down at her. His voice had a hint of pity in it, but just a hint. "You feel good enough to go see Dorothea?"

"Does anyone ever?"Anna said weakly. The weakness, however, was half-feigned. Half real, because _damn_, her ribs hurt, and half-feigned, because she'd be damned if she let these fools get the better of her. She wore the Ebon-Gray and, although no one knew, she was a Black Widow. None of these guards wore anything darker than the Opal, which outraged and, in fact, offended her. She hadn't even seen any Warlord Princes, of any rank. But she couldn't do anything about it. At least, not yet. Soon, they'd come… Versiver had said they'd come for her soon. Last night, he said they'd been sent out. A dragon-man… a wolf-man… and a gejk. Whatever that was.

"Well, then," the guard said, his voice suddenly hard, "she's asked"--asked, ha!--"to see you." He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. She wrenched her arm out of his grasp.

"I can stand on my own, thanks," she snapped. "I suppose I need an escort to find Dorothea's room?"

The guard snarled and unleashed a taste of his Purple Dusk strength into her mind. Unable to shield herself for fear of bringing Dorothea's wrath down on her--shields were not permissible Craft for slaves--she was forced to take it. Not that that was a problem for an Ebon-Gray Jeweled Black Widow against a Purple Dusk Jeweled Warlord, but it was a nuisance nevertheless.

"You'll come with me," he snarled, and grabbed her by the arm. He led her down the corridor and eventually they came to an ornate blackwood door. The guard pushed it open, shoved Anna in, and shut the door.

Dorothea stood facing her, wearing a revealing black dress that complemented the Red Jewel pendant that rested between her breasts. Which were, of course, accentuated by the dress's low cut neckline.

Anna rolled her eyes. "How desperate are you, that you always have to wear to most sluttish thing you can dredge out of the bottom of your wardrobe?"

Dorothea's smile faltered for a moment, but reappeared immediately. Red strength assaulted Anna's inner barriers but pulled back before they collapsed. By then, Anna was on her knees, holding her head. As Dorothea pulled out, Anna got to her feet, her eyes narrowed to slits.

"You always were a mouthy little chit," Dorothea said amiably. "And your dear father Althemen has once again refused my requests."

"Good," Anna said. "I'd rather endure your crap myself than force it on him."

The Red licked her inner barriers. She winced. Then she bared her teeth.

"You're awfully rambunctious for any ordinary witch," Dorothea mused. "One might wonder if you were something else… Like maybe… a Black Widow."

Anna froze. Did she know? How could she know? She'd hidden it well. No one except herself and her father knew what she was… and maybe her uncle, Alnevar, but he was in Pruul.

Dorothea's eyes seemed to pierce Anna's soul.

She finally found her voice.

"No, not a Black Widow. Just a very skilled bitch. Kind of like you, except I haven't quite perfected the art of being a grade-A slut as you have."

Dorothea chuckled. Anna braced her inner barriers, but Dorothea did nothing. Probably afraid of damaging Anna permanently. Her inner barriers were close to collapsing now. Easily rectified, if she'd been allowed to use Craft and her Jewels, but ah, therein lied the problem.

"As I said, your father has again refused my request. Do you know what this means?"

"The usual, right? Fifty lashes?"

Dorothea smiled. "Wouldn't that be nice? No, I'm afraid we'll be… upping the ante a little bit. Give your daddy a bit more incentive to comply. What say we make it… a hundred lashes?"

"So long as I don't have to look at your ugly face while I'm getting them." Anna braced herself again, and again, no rebuke.

Dorothea let out a small laugh and clapped her hands once. Four guards entered the room. Dorothea addressed the guards.

"Take her out to the courtyard. Strip her. Tie her to the whipping posts. She is to receive one hundred and fifty lashes."


	2. Chapter 2: Hybrids

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter II

Hybrids

---

Althemen sighed. (Anna, please, just let me--)

_(No.)_

(Anna, I sit here every day, just wondering what condition you're in. I get letters monthly requesting… You know. In exchange for your freedom.)

(You will not agree to that slut's terms. Father, that is one thing I will not back down on. You will not submit to her schemes, letting her get control of an Ebon-Gray Warlord Prince just so I can get out of here. I'm taking care of myself.)

(Every time I refuse, she has you whipped fifty times!)

There was a pause.

(Yes, fifty,) Anna said, quickly.

(What? What aren't you telling me?)

(Nothing,) Anna said. In an obvious attempt to change the subject, she added, (Is Uncle Alnevar still in Pruul?)

Althemen bared his teeth. (Yes. And he can rot there, for all I care.)

Anna gave a _hmph_ of disproval. (You needn't be so cruel.)

(If I wanted to be cruel, I would have had him shaved.)

(Dad!)

(Sorry.)

(What did he do, anyway, that made you so--)

(Don't, Anna. Let it be.)

There was an awkward pause.

(I have to go, Dad.)

(I'll try to get in touch another time, then… Anna?)

(Yeah?)

(Be careful… please. Don't give Dorothea reason to hurt you. Please.)

(Dad--)

(Please, Anna. I make an emotional sacrifice for you every time I refuse Dorothea's requests. You need to make one for me.)

(Fine. I won't deliberately piss her off. But I am a Black Widow.)

(Which is the excuse you use every time you make a smartass comment.)

(Exactly.)

Althemen chuckled. (Bye, Anna. We'll see each other soon. I promise.)

(Yes…) Anna said. (We will.) Anna broke the link. Althemen blinked. What had she meant by that?

---

Luseik hovered above Dorothea's compound, eying the building. Keski hovered nearby, hissing constantly.

"Thiss Realm iss even worsse than the lasst," he hissed. "And that building feelss like the ssoursse of it all."

Luseik smiled with contempt. "Then perhaps we'll have another task after securing the Ebon-Gray Jeweled Black Widow Queen." He dove at the compound.

---

Anna stared at the ceiling. Tonight. They had to be coming tonight. Tonight. The dragon-man and gejk wore Black Jewels, and the wolf-man wore the Ebon-Gray, so it couldn't take them very long to get here, if they rode the Winds. They had to arrive soon. Soon…

---

Luseik, Satiyen, and Keski stalked the compound cloaked in Luseik's Black sight, psychic, and aural shields. No one noticed them, as they had wanted. They tracked down the Black Widow by her psychic scent and by tracking her Ebon-Gray Jewels. Finally, the path led to a courtyard. Luseik stiffened. Her psychic scent was strong here.

As was her physical scent. Satiyen froze and looked up at Luseik. "Her blood was spilled here. A great deal of it."

Luseik's eyes narrowed.

"Do you think sshe'ss dead?" Keski asked quietly.

Luseik shook his head. "No. The path of her psychic scent continues… Look."

They all knew he didn't mean look with their eyes. They continued following the scent to a room.

"In here," Keski whispered excitedly, literally hopping with excitement. "We'll finally get to meet her! What do you think sshe'll be like?"

Luseik gently pushed Keski aside and laid a clawed hand on the doorknob, using Craft to dramatically enhance the clicking of his claws on the metal. Satiyen chuckled.

The door slid open. Inside the small room was a small desk, a small dresser, and a small bed. On the bed was a young woman of perhaps eighteen. She was sitting in the bed, staring at them. Luseik focused on her. His eyes flashed.

"It's her," he said.

"You're here," Anna breathed. "You're really here. You came for me."

Luseik smiled. He stepped forward and laid a hand on Anna's head. A slight jolt went through his hand and Anna jumped, startled.

"That will dispel any Craft or magic of any kind that this 'Dorothea' has placed over you. You are free of her control… And free to come to Dachrea with us." Luseik no longer spoke in the Old Tongue.

"Come to Dachrea?" Her eyes lit up. "You can't be serious!"

"We are indeed serious," Luseik said, smiling. "Lord Versiver and Lady Kennesra have granted me dominion over Askavi Dachrea… If I can find a suitable Queen to accompany me."

Anna clutched her chest. "You came to Teirreille just to find me?"

"You are more than just a Black Widow and a Queen, Anna."

"Well, I do wear a dark Jewel, but--"

"It is not that. Kennesra determined that you have an untapped power. We do not even know its nature… But it is significant. That we are sure of. We wish to help you discover and perfect that power, if you will agree to rule Askavi Dachrea with me. I shall serve and protect you with all my ability as a Black Jeweled Warlord Prince." He was on one knee, holding her hand. Anna swayed on her feet.

Keski giggled. Satiyen hit the gejk with a huge paw. Keski yelped, hissed, and quieted down when Luseik glared at him with piercing green eyes.

"I--I--I don't know," Anna stammered finally. "I mean, I really, _really_ want to go… But my dad… and my uncle…"

"Can come."

"What?"

"They can come. If you like, they can serve in your First Circle. If they wish."

Anna fell to a sitting position on the bed. "Mother Night."

Luseik smiled widely. "Come, my Queen. Should you like to think it over in your father's home? I'm sure he'll appreciate the company."

Anna nodded weakly.

Minutes later, they were gone.

---

Althemen ached as he stared up at the ceiling, the silk sheets and bed warmer doing nothing for the ache that pained him. He rolled onto his side to face Crielle, his wife and lover. And, incidentally, his Queen. He rolled onto his other side, facing the wall.

"Althemen," whispered Crielle. Right now, he was tired and lonely and needed the comfort he knew she would offer.

"Yes?" he replied wearily.

"What's wrong?"

"Everything," he said.

"Anna?"

He nodded. Crielle stroked his back with her hand.

"She's all right," Crielle said quietly. "I know it."

_Oh, I know she's all right,_ Althemen thought dryly. _I speak with her regularly. I just want her out of Dorothea's clutches._

"I hope so," he said. He knew he was deceiving his own wife, but he had to. It wouldn't do to arouse suspicions, after all. Even from his own wife, unfortunately.

There was a knocking on the door. "Yes?" Althemen called.

"There is a man who wishes to see you, Lord Althemen."

"Send him away. I'm not in the mood for another minor dispute between two fools who can't work out an agreement on their own."

"He says it's quite important, Lord." There was a pause. "He wears the Black, Lord."

Althemen sat bolt upright. The Black? A man? The only _men_ Althemen knew of that existed in all three Realms who wore the Black were Daemon Sadi and Saetan Daemon SaDiablo. One was the High Lord of Hell and the other… May the Darkness be merciful to anyone Sadi was interested enough in to come to their home. Either way, he'd be screwed if he didn't open the door.

"Tell him I'll be a moment," Althemen called. "I'll come back, darling," he whispered to Crielle and slid out from underneath the sheets. He stretched briefly, then made his way to the wardrobe. He pulled on a pair of black trousers with navy blue trim, a tuxedo jacket with the same navy blue trim, and a pair of black, comfortable, but elegant, slippers. He stood before the floor-length mirror in the corner and smoothed his hair back, to no avail, and shrugged.

Althemen opened the door. The manservant was gone. Althemen walked to the balcony and looked down to see a man standing at the threshold of the main entrance. Any further observations he might have made were postponed when he saw Anna and almost tripped over himself.

He righted himself and bolted down the stairs, cannoning into Anna with a force that could have crippled a small child. He lifted her up and embraced her, all the while sobbing.

At least a quarter hour later, he finally let her go and stood back to look at her.

"I haven't seen you in years," he whispered.

"I know," Anna replied, smiling weakly. Althemen pulled her into another embrace. The unknown man just stood back and smiled knowingly.

Althemen released his daughter and drew himself up to his full height as he remembered the man.

"Did you get my daughter away from Lady SaDiablo?" he asked, a wavering voice the only sign of his earlier breakdown.

"I did. By the way, My name is Luseik. Yours?"

"Althemen. I… Thank you. So much. I can't tell you how much she means to me. I'll pay you anything you want."

"Oh, the price I want may be both more and less than you could ever expect."

Althemen raised an eyebrow.

"And what would that be?"

"First off, you'll have to move."

Althemen didn't understand, but he nodded. "All right. And?"

"No, I don't mean merely to some other home. I mean you'll have to live in another Realm."

Althemen blanched. "Why?"

Luseik smiled. "So that you can be near your daughter, of course. She's coming to rule Askavi with me."

Althemen's eyes bulged. Luseik burst out laughing, unable to resist.

"Not Askavi in Teirreille, Kaeleer, or Hell. Askavi in Dachrea… The Black Realm."

Althemen swayed. It was an almost perfect imitation of Anna when Luseik had offered to let her rule Askavi Dachrea. A small giggling sound came from the hedge by the door. Althemen glanced at it, but Luseik coughed loudly.

Althemen shook his head. "The Black Realm?"

"The fourth Realm. Unknown to your people. We cut ourselves off from the three Pureblood Realms--"

"Pureblood Realms?"

"Ah, I apologize. Dachrea is a Realm almost entirely populated with what you might call hybrids."

"Hybrids?" Althemen was beginning to sound like an echo.

"A cross between two species." As soon as he finished speaking, his wings flared demonstratively.

"Oh," Althemen said. ""Like an Eyrien."

"Yes," Luseik said, "like an Eyrien. Although I am not an Eyrien. You may want to examine my wings more closely."

Althemen peered. "No, come inside. I can't see you in this darkness." They piled inside and Althemen stared at Luseik's wings. They had scales. No thin fur, just glimmering, beautiful black scales.

"Dragon's wings," he breathed.

Luseik nodded. "I am what's called a draghan."

Althemen let himself fall onto the dark blue chair next to the sofa, shaking his head. "I don't believe this."

"You will once you've been to Dachrea. And if you like, I can show you my two companions who came with me to find your daughter." Luseik gripped the hem of his shirt and tugged self-consciously.

"Companions?"

Luseik turned to the door. "Keski! Satiyen!"

There was a rustling noise, some grunts, and three muffled curse words before through the doorway walked--that is to say, came, because only one actually walked--some sort of little shadowy creature, and what could only be described as a wolf-man.

"Keski is the little one," Luseik said. "He is a gejk. And Satiyen is the white one. He is a wehr."

Crielle appeared at the balcony above. "Althemen? What's--" She froze when she saw the unusual gathering. Luseik flicked one claw in her direction, and she fell unconscious. She leaned over the balcony and fell. Startled, Althemen jumped up, but Satiyen held him back. As he watched, Luseik calmly stood up and, without a second to spare, lifted his arms and smoothly caught Crielle. Her silky, flowing black hair swung gently. Luseik laid her on the sofa and took a seat on the end of the sofa. He then tugged on his shirt again.

"Now," Luseik said, "Anna told me you have a brother. I believe his name was Alnevar?"

Althemen bared his teeth.

"We would appreciate it if he could accompany us to Dachrea."

"No," Althemen snarled. "Alnevar will stay in Pruul."

Anna looked up. "Please, Dad…"

Luseik's eyes narrowed. "The Lady wishes for Alnevar to accompany us to Dachrea."

Althemen stood up abruptly. "Alnevar will stay in Pruul!"

Luseik slowly rose to his feet. Two strides had him face-to-face with Althemen. One clawed hand wrapped itself around Althemen's throat. "The Lady… Wishes for Alnevar… To accompany us… To Pruul," he whispered with a delicacy that expressed every emotion he felt at that moment. A terrifying calm… and a maddening bloodlust. Anna was too frightened to say anything.

Althemen glared at Luseik until his neck was released. He didn't say a word even then.

"I take it we are all in agreement that Alnevar is coming with, then?" Luseik said pleasantly, brushing a wrinkle out of his trousers. He tugged at his shirt. It was becoming painfully obvious that Luseik was not accustomed to wearing a shirt. Not surprising, since his wings were similar in size to Eyriens', and most Eyriens opted to go shirtless as well. It made getting dressed in the morning much more convenient.

No one said anything. Luseik smiled as if oblivious to the tension in the room and nodded. "Then I'll be back tomorrow morning and we'll be on our way to Dachrea. Meanwhile, I have a Warlord to pick up." He left the house, followed by Satiyen and Keski.


	3. Chapter 3: Black Widows

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter III

Black Widows

---

Lord Versiver eyed his wife's tangled web. "And what does it say?" he said finally. Kennesra drew a breath and let it out slowly.

"It says several things… all of which I don't understand." She let out a frustrated growl. "It says… The Ebon-Gray Black Widow will have a task ahead of her when she arrives."

"I presume that would be the Queen we sent Luseik to find."

"Most likely."

Versiver stretched his black, scaled wings out and yawned. "What else does the web say?"

"We will help, but beyond that which is demanded, we must not interfere."

Versiver nodded. "Such is often the case. What else?"

"Two more things. First, that the outcome, whether she succeeds or fails, will impact the fate of Dachrea and the Darkness itself."

Versiver blanched. "We'll be trusting the fate of our Realm to a foreign Black Widow? She doesn't even wear the Black."

Kennesra's gaze seemed to pierce Luseik's soul. "Neither does Satiyen. And yet were it not for him, _you_ would be dead now."

Versiver frowned and waved a hand dismissively. "Don't dredge that up now, Kennesra. Anyway, what else does the web tell you?"

"Luseik, Satiyen, Keskes, her uncle, and her father will accompany her. Three of them will die, but… the web does not say which. I can't tell whether it refers to the final death, or the body's death."

Versiver frowned again. "This bodes ill," he said quietly.

"Indeed it does."

"Should we tell them?"

"I… No, I don't think so."

"After it happens… They'll find out we knew."

"They will. But Luseik will understand that it would only have made their task harder if we were to tell them."

"What if Luseik is one of…" he let the question hang unsaid in the air between them.

"Luseik…" She broke off. "We'll just have to hope… and pray to the Darkness that he is all right."

"Or that your web…" Versiver stopped himself.

"What?"

"Never mind… You wear the Black, and you are a skilled Black Widow. Your web would not be mistaken."

"Ah… I see. No, even the best make mistakes. Perhaps we would do well to hope I made one such mistake."

Versiver sighed. "I do hope my son will not come to harm in this task he's been appointed," he said. Kennesra laid one arm around his shoulder.

"Luseik will die honorably if he dies at all," she said. "Know that, at least, and let it comfort you. If Luseik must die, he will not die a pointless death."

"How do you know?" Versiver said quietly. "How can you know?"

"Because," Kennesra said, and smiled, "it wouldn't be like Luseik to go out without a bang." She chuckled and looked again at the tangled web. In one deft movement, she swept the entire thing up in her hand. The fragile silk ripped instantly. "No one shall see what was in this web," she said quietly. "Only you and I shall know what it showed."

Versiver nodded. They left the dark room together.

---

Alnevar fell to his knees, grateful to the point of tears that the day was over. A guard had beaten him for an hour over some perceived offense. Unable to strike back for fear of a whipping or worse, Alnevar had been forced to take it.

That guard, however, wouldn't be having much fun tomorrow, after he came down with an abrupt cold. A cold, yes. A cold that would steadily progress until the guard was coughing up blood. All of it. And when the guard had coughed up too much blood to sustain himself… Well, that'd just be too damn bad.

Granted, Alnevar hadn't done many of those spells, so it probably wouldn't go unnoticed. But he hadn't been able to sit there without striking back in some way. Either way, he was satisfied for the moment. He snapped his wings to their full span and let hundreds of sweat drops fly in every direction.

"Well, you're having fun," said a deep, amused voice. Alnevar jumped up and spun around to see an Eyrien.

Except he wasn't quite an Eyrien. Alnevar squinted to see in the moonlight--

Dragon's wings? Those had to be scales all over them, but…

The man's eyes flashed. He smiled. "Yes, they are dragon's wings. I am a draghan. You're niece and brother can explain it to you… For the moment, though, I need to take you back to them."

Alnevar bared his teeth. "I'm not going back there. I'd rather rot here than--"

The man sighed and rolled his eyes. "Not this again. Look, I'm sure you can work your way around whatever problem you two have. Either way, my Queen wishes you to come with us, so you are coming."

Alnevar narrowed his eyes. "I can't go. I'm bound here by the Ring of Obedience. So sorry."

The man smirked. "One of those little trinkets? That won't be a problem." Too quick for Alnevar to react, the man was standing inches away from him. The man's hand grasped his organ. There was a jolt, an unleashing of dark power, and a soft _clink_ as two broken pieces of a Ring of Obedience fell to the ground.

The man stepped back, an amused glint in his eyes. "Shall we go?"

Alnevar's eyes narrowed again. "Fine. But make sure Althemen knows I'm not happy about it."

"Oh, he would rather you stayed here as well. Your niece is the one who suggested that you come. I, personally, would suggest that we leave soon. They'll know your Ring was broken, and they'll be coming any moment now."

Alnevar nodded as he sensed the approaching presences of multiple Warlords. Luseik cloaked them both in sight and aural shields.

"Are your wings in good enough condition for flying?" Luseik asked, glancing around for the Warlords, which were dangerously close now. They stepped away from the broken Ring of Obedience.

"Should be," Alnevar said, flexing them. "I haven't been able to use them, but I stretch them just about every night."

"You should be fine," Luseik said. "Let's go."

They both launched themselves into the night sky and were gone.

A group of Warlords with Jewels ranging from Rose to Opal ran to the very spot where the two had just been standing, and looked around. The darkest Jeweled Warlord noticed a glint from the Ring and created a ball of witchfire to show it in light.

"It's his Ring of Obedience," he said quietly. "He's gone."

"How?" another asked.

"Zuultah won't be pleased," a third said. The first looked back.

"You're right. She won't. Although you won't have to worry about Zuultah's repercussions. Consider this a favor." He raised his right hand. As the opal-colored gem around his neck swung listlessly, the Black Jewel on his ring finger flashed. The Warlords surrounding him collapsed, dead. The man began to shimmer slightly, and in a flash, a little shadow creature stood in his place.

Keski panted. "The illussionss aren't that hard, but faking a Jewel iss complicated!" he exclaimed.

Satiyen looked up from where he was already feasting on the dead Warlords. "Whining as usual," he muttered before returning to his meal.

---

Anna looked at Althemen. "You don't look like you're getting enough sleep," she said.

"I'm not. It's nothing to do with you, though. It's--"

"Dorothea."

"Yes."

"I'm home now, Dad. I'm safe. I'm okay."

Althemen nodded. When he looked at her again, there were tears in his eyes. "You don't know how many nights of sleep I've lost, just wishing I could hold you again… But you're not my baby girl anymore." He smiled weakly.

Anna returned it gratefully. "Well, at least I don't have to deal with a clingy dad," she said. Then she laughed. "Although you can be if you want. You're coming to Dachrea, after all. You and me and Luseik and Alnev--"

Althemen snarled. Anna gave an exasperated sigh.

"Dad, what is your problem with Alnevar? What in the name of Hell did he do to make you hate him so much?"

Althemen's eyes narrowed. "You'll never stop asking, will you?"

"Not until I get an answer."

He sighed. "Alnevar killed Tesora."

Anna gasped. "Grandma? _Alnevar?_"

Althemen nodded.

Anna shook with many different emotions. The foremost one was confusion.

"But why? Why would he?"

"I don't know. All I understood was that it involved Caelar and a Black Widow."

"Caelar, Caelar--Grandpa?"

"Yes. My father. I would have killed Alnevar, but… I couldn't. I regret that now."

"Dad… I'll try to find out why. I'm sure he had a good reason."

"Oh, I'm sure he did. Although I never got to even find out from Tesora because after he killed her body, he burned out her mind as well."

Anna gasped.

There was a rapping at the door. "Room service," came Luseik's muffled voice.

"That guy's sense of humor is entirely too much for me," Althemen said dryly as he went to open the door.

Alnevar stood with Luseik. Althemen emitted a low growl without realizing it.

Alnevar followed suit.

"Murdering scum," Althemen growled, and raised the Ebon-Gray Jewel on his right hand.

"Backstabbing prick," Alnevar hissed, and flared his Eyrien wings.

"Squabbling children," Luseik muttered, and stepped between them. "Come on, now, we can't afford to kill each other before we get back to Dachrea. After all, I'm sure you'll want to at least meet Lord Versiver and Lady Kennesra before you kill each other."

The snarling and growling didn't stop.

"It's a great honor," Luseik continued, as if oblivious.

They continued.

"If you like, you can sleep on the way there." He waved a hand and bothAlnevar and Althemen collapsed. Luseik knelt down and slung one of them over each shoulder. He turned to Anna. "Shall we go, Queen?" he said kindly.

Anna hid her laugh under the façade of a polite cough. She stepped forward and followed Luseik to the Dark Altar that slept just minutes down the street.

---

When they arrived, and no sooner, Keski and Satiyen stepped out of the shadows.

"We took care of it," Keski said mysteriously.

"No one will know what happened," Satiyen added on, licking his paws fastidiously.

Luseik nodded. "Good." He turned to the Altar. A wave of his hands, and the candles lit themselves in quick succession, in a complicated pattern. The stone slab faded to mist.

Luseik entered first, making sure he had a good grip on each of the limp bodies before stepping into the swirling mist.

Keski went next. He seemed to meld into the mist as he vanished.

Satiyen motioned for Anna to take his paw and together they walked to the mist. Before stepping through, though, Satiyen turned to Anna. "Luseik really does love you," Satiyen said quietly. "Don't forget that. Don't let him go." Anna tilted her head, confused. As Satiyen pulled his paw away, she thought she felt something like a tiny tooth scrape gently across her hand. Her eyes widened. No, Satiyen had claws. It was probably…

Satiyen was gone. She didn't remember seeing him step through the mist.

Anna turned to the mist.

_He really does love you._

Could Satiyen be…?

_Don't forget that._

But Satiyen was a male.

_Never let him go…_

Anna smiled and ran through the mist.


	4. Chapter 4: Hell's Angels

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter IV

Hell's Angels

---

The girl vanished through the dark mist.

The psychic thread that linked to a mind outside the Altar was wavering, twisted, tainted. But it was also Ebony.

(They are on their way to Dachrea,) a sibilant voice slid along the thread straight to Dachrea.

(Yes. They shan't reach their destination, of course,) came the reply, equally sibilant.

(Shall we go, sister?) said the first voice.

There was a brief pause. (The Altar has opened here. I'm weaving the spell now…)

A dark figure stepped out of the shadows and began to weave a spell over the Altar just as the mist began to change back into cold stone. It stopped, reverted back to mist. The figure began to weave another spell. The Altar shook slightly.

The figure walked forward into the mist.

---

"I know the Gates are disorienting at first, but is the transition between Realms supposed to take this long?" Anna asked, worried, unable to see anything through the thick misty shadows.

Luseik's voice conveyed the frown he was doubtfully making right now. "Dachrea is somewhat separated from the Pureblood Realms, but going through the Gate didn't take this long going the other way."

Suddenly, everything jolted. Anna froze, unsure of what to do. The mist surrounding them thinned so that they could see each other. Soon, they were standing on solid shadows in a small cleared area, surrounded by thick swirling shadows and mist.

"No, the transition doesn't normally take this long," said a sibilant voice. "But you're no longer on your way to Dachrea."

Luseik spun around, unhindered by the two limp bodies on his shoulders. "Whoever that was is gone," he snarled. "Damn, I didn't notice them sooner."

The mist began to close in around them again. There was another jolt, and then silence.

"Luseik?" Anna called. "Keski? Satiyen?" She cautiously began to walk forward.

And stepped out of the mist to see everyone standing unharmed before her. She turned around to see a cold stone wall. "We made it! We're in Dachrea!"

"No," Luseik growled. "We're not. We're not in any of the Realms."

Anna spun back around to face him. "What do you mean?"

"This is someplace… Other. Someone created this place. We're inside a Dark Altar, all right, but if you step outside, it's a desolate wasteland. I looked."

"Someone created this?"

"Someone powerful. I've been places like this before. Most of them were more… Pleasant… But it takes great strength to build something like this."

"So… Are we trapped here?"

Luseik closed his eyes and raised one arm. Nothing happened. "The candles are spelled against fire."

Something inside of Anna went cold. "A spell stronger than your Black Jewels?"

Luseik's eyes narrowed. "I wear a cut Black Jewel, not uncut. If we face an enemy who wears an uncut Black, he would wield slightly more power."

Anna shook her head. "I've been wondering something. There are only two males in all three of the Pureblood Realms, as you call them, that wear the Black Jewel. So how much of a coincidence is it that you and Keski both wear them?"

Luseik shook his head. "It's no coincidence, Anna. Teirreille and Kaeleer are quite far separated from the Darkness. Dachrea, though, is a pure, unadulterated extension of the Darkness, modified by Black Widows and the more powerful Blood in order to be inhabitable. It's rare for anyone born in Dachrea to be gifted with a birthright Jewel lighter than the Opal. The Black is not quite as rare as it is in Teirreille and Kaeleer. Still uncommon, but I'm not surprised this unseen enemy wears the Black."

"Or darker," Satiyen said quietly. Luseik whirled on him.

"Witch, and only Witch, wears the Ebony," Luseik snarled. Satiyen shied away.

"Well, we're not getting anything done jusst sstanding here," Keski said finally. "Why don't we jusst explore the outsside?"

"Because it's obviously a trap," Luseik snapped.

Keski rolled his glowing crimson eyes. "We've got two Black Jewelss and two Ebon-Gray Jewelss on our sside. Three if you'll wake thosse two up, and then we'd alsso have a Gray. No Black Jewel, uncut or otherwisse, can sstand againsst uss."

Satiyen coughed loudly. Luseik gave him a dirty look and gave an exasperated sigh. He dropped the two unconscious men on the floor and waved a hand noncommittally at them. As they began to stir, he made for the door.

Anna followed him, unable to stray too far from the comforting strength of his Black Jewels. Satiyen and Keski stayed behind to placate the two half-Eyriens who hadn't quite come to their senses yet.

---

Luseik had been right. It _was_ a desolate wasteland. And although it was ominous, it was actually rather pretty. If it was something your tastes could accommodate. There was a plain, absolutely flat landscape of black… Something. It looked like glass. There were something like black mountains that lined the horizon all the way around them. The sky was a beautiful, rich crimson red, and a black sun seemed to be in a perpetual sunset over the mountains.

"It's beautiful," Anna breathed.

"It's filthy," Luseik snarled. "It's tainted. The whole place… It's saturated with tainted power. The ground pulsates with it. That sun radiates it. It makes my gorge rise."

Anna put a hand on his shoulder and looked up at him. "I can sense that too. It is disgusting. But close your inner barriers. Put a psychic shield up so you can't sense the taint. Just look with your eyes. Look at the physical scenery, not the psychic scenery. Isn't it beautiful?"

Luseik bared his teeth and looked at the sun. "Yes, my Lady. It's nice," he said stiffly. Anna drew her hand from his back and sighed.

Luseik spun to face her. "I'm sorry, Anna. I didn't mean to… Please forgive my impudence, Queen."

Anna looked up at him. "Please, don't," she said. "Don't call me Queen. I'm not used to ruling anything. Once we've been in Dachrea for a while… Then you can act subservient. But please, don't."

"I'm sorry."

"How touching," said an amused voice from above them. Luseik spun, his wings flaring as he looked up to the top of the Dark Altar. Two people stood atop the Dark Altar. A girl and a boy, both of perhaps fourteen. A quick probe told Anna that the boy was a Warlord Prince and the girl was a Queen, and they were closely related, most likely siblings. They were also Guardians, Blood who had become demon-dead, and then chosen a half-life that would extend their lives into years beyond counting.

Both of them wore the Ebony Jewels.

At least, that was Anna's first perception. Something was strange about the Jewels, though. Oh, they were real, all right, but they weren't the Jewels those two rightfully wore. There was a spell, a ridiculously powerful spell, over those Jewels that kept the two from being consumed by the power of the Ebony.

Before she could contemplate anything more, the girl spread her wings. They were neither Eyrien nor draghan wings. They were blanketed in lush, soft feathers.

The girl leapt off of the rooftop, followed by her brother, who sported similar wings. The two landed several yards away from Luseik and Anna.

"Hell's angels," Luseik snarled.

"Observant little prick, aren't you?" said the girl.

A hastily connected psychic thread was formed between Luseik and Anna, on a personal thread. In seconds, she was told information that would take much longer to speak aloud.

(They are a brother and sister who are notorious in Dachrea,) Luseik said, his voice rough with aggression. (They were originally from Dachrea hundreds of thousands of years ago, but they were tainted from the cradle. They were banished from Dachrea as infants and sent to Kaeleer with their parents. They lived out their lives and then died. They both wore the Black, though, and their psychic strength was too deep to let their souls fade into the Darkness and they became demon-dead. They chose to become Guardians. Several thousand years later, they inevitably learned of Dachrea and their heritage. They forced their way back into Dachrea and used forbidden magic to create those wings you see. Now they call themselves Hell's angels and they wreak havoc wherever they can. They've been a thorn in the side of my Lord and Lady for ages. I don't know how they got those Ebony Jewels… Nor do I know how they are able to use them. But they are a formidable enemy even wearing the Black. Be careful, Anna.)

"You _have_ done your homework, haven't you?" said the girl. "Pretty smart for someone in whose veins flows the blood of a dragon."

Something in the way she said 'dragon' made it sound more like 'feces' and Luseik didn't miss the insult.

"Ebony or Clear, it makes no difference what Jewels you wear. You're tainted, and you're scum, and I'll make short work of you in the name of my Lord and Lady," Luseik growled. One wing wrapped itself protectively around Anna. "And if you touch my Queen, I'll gut you both like pigs."

"My, my, protective of our Black Widow, aren't we? Do you even know the power she wields? Even wearing a mere Ebon-Gray Jewel, even without knowing her true power, she is stronger than you can ever hope to be."

Luseik snarled. "That may be so, but you're not getting your tainted hands on her power as long as I'm alive."

"Well, then," said the girl amiably as she raised the Ebony Jewel on her right hand, "Your life poses an obstacle to our plans. What do we do with obstacles, brother?"

The boy didn't smile, didn't look up. His dark eyes were fixed on Luseik. "We eradicate them."

"Indeed."

Something troubled Anna about that boy. Something she couldn't quite place, something about his mind, the way his inner barriers were constructed, the way his--

Luseik screamed and clutched at his skull. Anna grabbed him. "Luseik! Luseik, what's wrong?"

Luseik collapsed. Anna backed away from him. Suddenly, she spun to face the Hell's angels and looked past them at the Dark Altar. Where were Keski and Satiyen, Althemen and Alnevar? Hadn't they heard something by now?

"Your other friends are in similar condition," the girl said. "Except that their heads will probably hurt a lot more when they wake up. Their Jewels aren't quite so powerful, after all." She looked at her brother. "Luseik, though… Perhaps we shouldn't leave him here. He might come after the Black Widow… and he'll be a nuisance. What say you, brother?"

The boy looked at Luseik's limp form. Luseik's breathing was ragged and irregular.

"It would be most prudent to kill him now," said the boy, "if we consider the challenge of keeping possession of the Black Widow. But if we wish to gain the Black Widow's obedience, killing him would not be the most beneficial option towards our cause."

There it was again. The way the boy spoke. The sympathetic, apologetic, piteous way the girl looked at him…

Anna gasped. The boy's mind was damaged. Of course… How couldn't she have seen it before? It was so obvious. Something had gone wrong during the placing of the spell on the Ebony Jewels that enabled the two to wear them, and some of that power had been exposed to the boy's mind, damaging him before it could be helped. And because women were more valuable than men in the eyes of the Blood, of course the spell would be tested on the boy first, which was why it had failed; it hadn't been perfected yet. And they were siblings, which explained the sorrow, the sympathy, the pity from the girl.

Anna… Anna was a Black Widow. If she was allowed to, perhaps she could help the boy. Perhaps. If it was within her ability, she could try to heal the boy's mind.

The girl noticed Anna staring at her brother and bared her teeth. One wing extended to block Anna's view of the boy. "Is my brother interesting to you?" she said viciously. "Is that why you're staring at him?"

"No!" Anna said, not wishing to pour salt on a wound. "I just… He's mind-damaged. The damage is recent. It can be healed. I'm a Black Widow. I can help him if you let me--"

The girl's voice was low, murderous. "Stay away from my brother," she said.

"I don't want to hurt him. If you wait, the damage will be permanent. He can still be healed."

Before Anna could react, the girl had dashed forward wrapped one hand around Anna's neck. "If you so much as probe my brother's mind, I'll break you of your Jewels, your Craft, even that power of yours that Luseik covets so much. I'm not willing to risk my brother's sanity for power… Not again."

"I don't want to hurt him! I want to help!"

"He doesn't need your help."

_(Yachesa.)_ The psychic thread permeated the entire area. It came from a powerful mind, a mind that Anna knew could encompass every mind here. (Do not harm the Black Widow. Bring Yachesen and the Black Widow to me now. And… Bring the draghan as well.)

The girl--Yachesa--widened her eyes and replied on the same thread.

(The son of Versiver?)

(There are no other draghans in Everdusk, Yachesa.) The link was broken.

So this place was called Everdusk. And the brother and sister were named Yachesa and Yachesen. And they worked for someone with even more power than the Ebony.

Yachesa glared daggers at Anna and let her hand drop. She leaned in close and hissed. "You stay away from my brother. I don't care what Oebr wants. If my brother comes to harm at your hands, I will hunt you down, and your death will take days. You'll suffer… beyond imagining… for day… after… life… sucking… day."


	5. Chapter 5: Vulnerabilities

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter V

Vulnerabilities

---

Luseik groaned and stirred slightly. His eyes opened halfway, blurrily examining the dark shapes around him. The moment he remembered what had happened, he sat bolt upright.

Or tried to. He was bound by… something. Some sort of slimy, half-solid substance seemed to fix him to a cold, hard surface. It was too dark to see much.

(Awake, I see,) said a deep, rough voice. (You needn't worry for the safety of your Queen. She is safe and unharmed, and she shall remain so as long as both she and you are compliant.")

Luseik bared his teeth at the darkness. "Let us go. We aren't going to play your games."

(Oh, Queen Anna seems eager enough to play. Perhaps you'll have to read the rules before the game becomes more appealing to you.)

Luseik growled. "Enough of your damn jokes! Show yourself!"

(I don't think I will. Not yet, in any case. And you can go back to sleep now.)

Luseik lost consciousness before he could shield himself.

---

Anna nodded slowly, a pained look in her eyes. "Just don't hurt Luseik. Please…"

"You needn't worry. We have no desire to cause suffering to either of you. Of course, we won't hesitate to do so if it becomes necessary." Yachesen turned to his sister. "Has Lord Oebr determined the nature of the girl's power?"

Yachesa shook her head. "No. He says there's some sort of barrier surrounding her that repels magic. It has something to do with her power, ironically enough, but he still can't determine the nature of it."

Yachesen nodded. "Then there is nothing we can do except wait until Lord Oebr is able to bypass this barrier."

Yachesa grabbed her hair and tugged. "These damn Jewels!" she cursed. "I don't know why Oebr can't just--" She froze in mid-sentence and looked at Anna, as if she'd just let something slip that she shouldn't have. Then she shook her head and growled at nothing in particular.

Anna leaned back in her chair. Strange that they hadn't thought to bind her in any way. Tie her up, hold her in place with magic, anything like that. Well, they wore the Ebony--Ostensibly, at least--so maybe they didn't need to bind an Ebon-Gray Jeweled witch.

She sighed and sent a psychic probe around the area. It would help to know something about where she was being held, after all.

Nothing on location. Well, she was in a foreign Realm, after all. She wouldn't recognize the location.

Luseik was in an adjoining room, the probe told her. Anna stood up. Yachesa spun to face her.

"Sit," Yachesa said firmly.

(Yachesa,) said that same ridiculously dark voice on the widespread psychic thread. (Let the Black Widow move about our palace as she pleases. She cannot threaten our plans on her own.)

"Yes, Lord Oebr," Yachesa muttered and turned away from Anna.

Anna moved toward the door she sensed Luseik behind. She laid a hand on the doorknob and felt a small jolt, then nothing. She noticed Yachesa staring at her but ignored the girl as she turned the knob and pushed the door open. She was assaulted by thoughts as the psychic thread was rebuilt and messages flew.

(Lord Oebr, how could she open that door? It was Ebony-locked! I made sure of it!)

(I know not, but it changes nothing. Now be silent, and leave me to my work, Yachesa.)

Anna, confused, pushed the door open and stared at Luseik, bound to a stone slab by what looked like solidified shadows. He was asleep.

She went to his side and touched one of the shadows experimentally. As she did so, it hissed, steamed, and faded. Unsure of herself but confident she was helping, she dispelled all of them in this way, then put a hand on Luseik's shoulder. There was yet another jolt, and then nothing. She shook Luseik.

"Luseik, wake up," she said. "Please, Luseik, wake up."

Luseik stirred and opened his eyes. He sat up, rubbing his head. "Anna, where are we?"

"Somewhere in Dachrea, I think. Those Hell's angels are keeping us here… They're trying to discover my power. I think it has something to do with dispelling magic."

Luseik swung his feet down onto the floor and checked himself over. Once assured he was uninjured, still in his own clothing, and not robbed of any possessions, he took Anna's hand and brought her to the door. They paused as Yachesa eyed the two.

"You're not leaving," said Yachesa coldly, "so don't even think it. Lord Oebr has ordered us to give you free reign of the palace, so we won't stop you exploring, but know that there is no exit you can reach."

Luseik bared his teeth. Unable to think of anything to say, he spun to the side and rammed his fist into a wall. He fed Black power into it until the wall began to crack.

Anna grabbed his shoulder. "Luseik, stop!"

Everything stopped at once. The Black power locked itself once again inside Luseik as he withdrew his hand, looking confused but sated. He looked at Anna. His eyes widened briefly then returned to normal. He gave her a hint of a knowing smile.

Which confused her more.

(Lady Anna.) The voice soothed Anna, despite not wanting to be soothed. It caressed her mind gently, despite the revulsion that very same caress caused. She found herself melting into it, despite wanting to stay comfortably solid… at least, comfortably solid in anyone's voice except Luseik's.

As she spent more time with the Black Jeweled draghan, she found that he was growing on her. His deep, perpetually husky voice soothed her mind even as a comfortingly masculine hand soothed her body, resting on her shoulder. She couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have those hands caress her back while she lay in a bed like the one she'd had years ago in her father's house. White silk sheets barely hiding that masculine physique.

She raised an eyebrow as she came to that thought. How would he manage those wings in bed? Well, he'd likely be on his stomach anyway. And possibly hers.

She shook her head violently. No, she couldn't let her thoughts stray in _that_ direction.

(I wish to speak with you in private,) the voice said, jerking her out of her thoughts with its amused tone, as if it had been listening in on them. (Yachesa will escort you. Luseik need not worry for your safety. You will not be harmed.)

"How can I know that?" Luseik demanded.

_(She will not be harmed.)_

Luseik seemed to shrink into himself.

Yachesa led Anna down a corridor with minimal resistance and minimal snarling from either of them. They reached a door. Anna entered, and Yachesa quietly closed the door behind her. Anna was alone but for the deep shadows that encompassed the entire room. One shadow in particular seemed to bulge from the darkness, to make its own presence known simply by dwarfing everything else.

A pair of crimson eyes slowly opened. A single dark thought encompassed the room and torches lining the walls lit themselves.

Anna stumbled backwards and hit the door as she stared up at the massive dragon that lay before her, eying her with interest.

(So you are the Black Widow,) the dragon said. (I am Oebr.) She knew she should fear, hate, dread this creature, but something about it made her… not necessarily like it, but something seemed to ease her mind. It wasn't anything so blunt as a spell, or even psychic tendrils of comfort, calm, ease. It was something in the very nature of it. She waited.

(Your power is very strong,) Oebr said.

"No, I wear only the Ebon-Gray," she said humbly. "Luseik tells me that in Dachrea, the Black is not as rare as it is in the Pureblood Realms. I am merely average."

(I refer not to your Jewels, but to the power of your birthright.)

"My Sapphire Jewels?"

There was a long pause, then Oebr sighed. (Purebloods are so difficult to communicate with,) he muttered. (In any case, I wish to attempt to uncover your power. You will not be harmed. Please step forward and lay your hand upon me.)

Anna did so with hesitation. As she touched the dragon, he winced, jolted, and shrank back slightly. She pulled her hand back.

(Something protects your Self. Something other than your inner barriers. It repels magic. I cannot discern its nature, but it is powerful.) He sounded frustrated.

Anna paused, an idea coming to her. "You can do all sorts of Craft, right?" she said quickly.

(I can,) Oebr said, as if the question itself was pointless.

"Do something… Anything. I have an idea."

Almost immediately, a ball of witchfire appeared in midair. Anna reached out to touch it, concentrating on not using any magic whatsoever, even involuntarily. She began to feel a burning sensation in her finger and pulled back. Then she stopped concentrating on not using magic and reached out. The fire fizzled and faded before her hand came within a foot of it.

"Put it back up," she said. Oebr nodded, intrigued, and recreated the fire. This time, Anna concentrated on putting out the fire and pointed at it. The moment she did so, the fire vanished with a faint _pop_ noise.

"I kill magic," she said proudly.

(You nullify magic,) Oebr amended. She shrugged.

"Well, I figured it out, anyway, so… You can let me go, right?"

(Apologetically, I must tell you otherwise. I need your help… Then you may leave when you wish.)

"If you wanted my help," Anna said indignantly, "you wouldn't have kidnapped me."

(I did not kidnap you. Yachesa did. Against my orders.)

There was a long pause.

"Oh."

---

Luseik growled as he paced the room. Yachesa and her brother had left for the moment, and Luseik was left to his thoughts, left to pace, to wonder, to wait, to curse every living thing in this damned palace except for Anna, whom he was almost positive was being tortured by this 'Oebr' character, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it!

He snarled and sat down.

Where the hell were Keski and Satiyen, anyway?

For that matter, where was Luseik in the first place? No longer in that tainted wasteland, certainly, unless it was a hell of a long way from the Dark Altar. Besides, this… felt… like Dachrea. He couldn't explain it, but it just felt like his home Realm.

But he couldn't even place the Territory. He'd attempted to send out psychic threads--and discovered that the entire building was spelled against psychic threads Black or lighter. He'd explored every room except the one Anna had entered--which was, of course, Ebony-locked--and found that there were indeed no exits.

He placed his elbows heavily on the table and pulled at his hair. _Damn_ them! All of them! He knew it was just his Warlord Prince instincts going off, but _damn it_, his Queen was in danger, and he just wanted to kill something, rip, tear, claw, unleash the dark, glorious power of his Black Jewels until he could embrace Anna in his own protective arms, keep her safely shielded from all these bastards who wanted to hurt her, to manipulate her. Anna needed him, and he couldn't do anything because of these children and their pseudo-Ebony Jewels. If it wasn't for their masquerading as Ebony-Jeweled Blood, _he'd_ be able to know that his Queen was safe. Damn it, damn it, damn it!

"You needn't worry for the safety of your Queen," said Yachesen from the corridor as he stepped into the room. "She is perfectly safe. I assure you she will come to no harm under Oebr's care."

Before anyone knew what was happening, Luseik's chair flew backward and he was standing before the boy, one clawed hand wrapping around Yachesen's throat and flexing, desperately needing to kill something but knowing there would be repercussions if he did.

So instead, he settled for rasping, "I don't want your hollow reassurances that this Oebr isn't torturing Anna right now. I want Anna out here right now. I'm a Warlord Prince, she's my Queen, she's in danger. Let your imagination fill in the blanks, little prick."

Ebony strength pummeled Luseik's mind out of nowhere. As he stumbled backward, Yachesa leapt into him, clawing, tearing, screaming.

"Stay away from my brother! I'll kill you! You tried to hurt my brother, you heartless bastard! I'll rip your throat out! I'll--"

(**Yachesa.**) Everyone winced from the force of that thought. (The draghan was only doing as his upbringing and heritage as a Warlord Prince demands. We should expect no less, and not punish him for acting so. You should have kept Yachesen away from him.)

Yachesa rolled off of Luseik, breathing heavily. Luseik got up, resisted the urge to kick her, and ground his teeth as he took a seat again. He waited.

Yachesa got up and stormed off, but before she went through a door, she turned back to Luseik. "Touch my brother again, and even Oebr won't be able to keep me from clawing your eyes out." She vanished through the doorway. Luseik drew his lip back in a slight snarl.

Another door opened, and Anna emerged.

"Luseik," she said, surprisingly sprightly, "we know what my power is. And Oebr's not an enemy."


	6. Chapter 6: Frustrations

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter VI

Frustrations

---

"So you want us to stop him."

(I do.)

"With my Black Jewels and Anna's power."

(Yes.)

"Even though you wield more power than us."

(Not against this foe. I wield as much power as he does. He is, as I have said, my brother. Your Queen wields a power that can stand against him.)

Luseik sighed. "I guess I don't have a choice but to agree."

(Oh, you need not agree. Your Queen already has, and she wields the necessary power. You only have to go if you feel she needs your protection. It is unlikely that she will, but it is your decision.)

"Well… How long do you think it will take?"

(That depends on how efficiently you complete your task.)

"You're not being very helpful, you know."

Anna sighed. "Look, all we have to do, is find this Akarui guy, and then get him to stop building that… thing. Right?"

Luseik drew one lip back. "I'm only agreeing because you are, Queen. I'd personally rather not, but if you wish, I will not resist."

"Then it's settled. We'll go. Oh…" She turned to Oebr. "Where are Keski, Satiyen, my dad, and my uncle?"

(The four that were with you are safe in Everdusk, the dark world Yachesa created.)

"That filthy, tainted place," Luseik snarled.

Yachesa returned the snarl.

(Yachesa, calm yourself.)

"Well," Anna said, "I'd say we're ready. So how do we get out of here?"

(You must leave through the Gate to my left.)

Luseik looked and saw the candles and the stone slab. He'd already examined them, but found they were spelled against fire. Ironic that they should suddenly be able to use them.

Anna waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the candles. Nothing felt any different, but when Luseik used witchfire, the candles flared to life. When the last one was lit, the stone slab faded to mist.

(This Gate links only to Everdusk. You can get to other parts of Dachrea from there. You may retrieve your friends before setting out.)

Well, that was good. They'd pick up Keski and Satiyen and the two relatives of Anna's who seemed inclined to attack each other whenever Luseik looked away, then head for

Luseik took Anna's hand and, without another word to the dragon, stepped through the dark mist.

---

Luseik stepped out of the mist into the Dark Altar in Friegham, the capital of Dhemlan Dachrea. He was followed shortly by Anna, then Keski, then Satiyen, and finally Althemen and Alnevar.

They waited until the stone slab reappeared solidly before stepping out of the room that housed the Gate.

"Luseik," said the Priestess waiting outside as soon as he emerged. "Welcome back, Lord. I see you succeeded."

"You could say that," Luseik muttered. "I see it's late. Is the Coach station down the street open this late?"

The Priestess gave him a friendly smile. "For you, Lord Luseik? Of course it will be."

Luseik grunted noncommittally and left the Altar, leaving a confused Priestess behind as everyone else piled out after him.

---

The Priestess had been wrong. Not only was the Coach station closed, there was no one there either, so they were stuck in town for the night unless they wanted to walk or rind the Winds themselves. Everybody agreed that they were too tired to stay awake long enough to get to eastern Dachrea even on a Black Wind, so they made their way to Satiyen's favorite inn, the Black Blood Inn. Upon entering, they were greeted by the smell of smoke and alcohol.

"Oh, hooray," Luseik muttered. "Drunkards and loud noise. Perfect environment for a good night's sleep."

They made their way to the bar, where the innkeeper greeted them, his cat ears twitching as his cat tail flicked back and forth playfully. His cat eyes were bright blue and glittered with a friendly light as he spoke.

"What'll it be, Lord Luseik? I see you've brought your friends, too--and a lovely Queen you have there, I might say. May I ask your name, miss?"

"Anna," she said, smiling.

"And a lovely name to go with that face. Well, what can I get for you?"

"A room will be fine," Luseik said stiffly. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop flirting with my Queen."

The innkeeper raised his hands. "Guilty of all charges, terribly sorry, Lord. You sure you just want one room? You've got quite the gathering of friends behind you. I've got a group of three rooms right next to each other, at the end of the hall, if you like. I'd be glad to give you a generous discount; after all, you are the soon-to-be Warlord Prince of Askavi."

"No, that will not be necessary," Luseik said. "How much will the three rooms be?"

"You sure? Business is good, giving you a bit of a break on the price won't hurt me any--"

"Just tell me how much the rooms are, please," Luseik snapped. Anna tugged at his arm. He ignored her.

"Terribly sorry, sir, just trying to be hospitable. If you insist on paying the full price, it'll be fifteen silver marks. Four for each room, plus three for the initial charge." The innkeeper was quiet and looked as if he felt guilty for some perceived offense. His eyes no longer held any twinkle and his tail hung listlessly. Luseik growled and dropped the money on the counter. The innkeeper took it and walked into the back room. A few moments later, he returned with three keys and handed them cautiously to Luseik. Finally, at the innkeeper's caution, Luseik's temper snapped.

"Look, I'm tired, and I'm having a pain in the ass of a day. I'm not going to hurt you, I just want a damn room, and I'm not interested in being pampered just because I'm going to rule Askavi. So don't go acting like a beaten dog just because I wouldn't cheat you out of the money I owe you for the rooms."

The innkeeper looked frightened. "I--I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean any offense, I just--"

Everyone in the inn was staring at Luseik. People began to stare. Luseik swore viciously and stormed out of the room. They heard him cursing as he attempted to find the right key for the door, and then the door slammed. Anna winced and followed him.

Keski blinked at Satiyen, who merely shrugged. Althemen started to go after Anna, but Alnevar put a restraining hand on his shoulder. Althemen growled, but didn't pursue her.

Satiyen took a seat at the bar. "I think I could go for a bit of whiskey before I turn in."

The bartender shuddered and pushed a bottle and small glass toward Satiyen. "What's wrong with the Lord? If I didn't know better, I'd think it was the onset of rut."

Satiyen choked on his whiskey, then wiped his mouth and shook his head. "Let us all pray to the Darkness it isn't anything so serious as that."

A half hour later, everyone had had a bit of whiskey and gone to bed; Satiyen didn't trust Althemen and Alnevar to sleep in the same room without one turning up dead in the morning, so he slept in a room with Althemen while Keski and Alnevar took another.

---

As Satiyen was ordering his whiskey, Anna knocked gently on Luseik's door.

"Go away."

"Luseik, please. Let me in."

"I said go away! Damn it, Anna!"

"Luseik, I'm not leaving until you open the door."

The door swung open. Luseik glared at her.

"Luseik, what's wrong?"

Luseik spun around and went to the bed, where he threw himself down and grunted. "You said open the door. I did. Now leave me alone."

"No." She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. "You have to tell me why you're so mad."

Luseik rolled onto his stomach. "Anna, I just--_Damn_ this jacket!" He sat up. With one swift movement of his muscular claws, he ripped the jacket off and tossed the tatters aside. He flexed his wings within the confines of the room and gave a soft moan of pleasure. Anna shifted uncomfortably until he was done. He collapsed forward into the bed and rubbed his face into a pillow. Then he turned onto his side and looked at her. He patted the bed in front of him. Worried at what might happen but unwilling to provoke him, Anna came forward and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Anna," Luseik said. "I'm not mad, I just… Ever since I saw you in Dorothea's palace… I knew I had to have you… I knew you were my Queen, destined to rule Askavi with me. But now that this bastard Oebr wants us to do his dirty work, and all I want is to settle down in Askavi with you."

Anna froze. Surely he didn't want _that_. She'd never--Oh, Mother Night, she'd always managed to avoid going to bed with a man until now, because she knew any Warlord in Dorothea's service who bedded her wouldn't let her leave intact--broken of her Jewels, her Craft, or worse, her mind--but if _Luseik_ asked, how was she supposed to refuse? Especially with him in the mood he was in now.

"Luseik, I--" She broke off when she noticed him staring at her. His eyes narrowed and she felt his psychic probe feeling, testing, trying to detect something.

"You're a virgin," he said flatly.

Anna nodded slowly.

"Well," Luseik said, shrugging, "it's not a problem. I've performed Virgin Nights before."

Anna's eyes widened. "You don't mean--not now, surely--"

"If you don't want to, we don't have to. It just means I'll have to keep a careful eye on you until we're done with Oebr's little job. Maybe we can celebrate our marriage and ascension to the rule of Askavi by performing your Virgin Night."

"I…" Anna nodded, speechless. "I suppose we could."

Luseik chuckled. "Why so shy suddenly? Come here. We don't have to have sex, we can just… sleep."

Anna shook her head frantically. "No, I--That is to say, I couldn't--"

"Who would you rather share a room with? Satiyen?"

Anna paled. Luseik laughed and used her momentary distraction to grab her by the arm and pull her down next to him. He wrapped his arms around her before she could resist, and then held her in place until she stopped squirming. He vanished her blouse and ignored her protests until she realized that his bare chest was pressing against her back, and something else was prodding her through his trousers. She squeaked, alarmed. Luseik, not bothering to try and quiet his body's response to being so close to Anna, rolled her over to face him and held her close to him. Eventually she quieted down and even allowed her own arms to fall across Luseik's back, running her fingers across that delicate area where the scales and cartilage of his wings joined with the flesh and bones of his human body.

"How does something like this happen?" she asked quietly.

"Hm?"

"You. A mix between a human and a dragon."

Luseik stiffened. Anna inhaled sharply.

"I don't mean anything negative by it. I just wondered how a hybrid like you could be born. I didn't think a relationship between a human and a dragon was possible. Not a relationship of… that… kind."

Luseik chuckled. "Let's just say there was a lot of magic involved."

"Well, I'm glad. You're perfect… Just the man I've always wanted… Dark Jewels… a fantastic body, in more than one way…" Luseik chuckled. "And it helps that you're a Warlord Prince from a faraway land, come to take me away from my miserable life, just like in a fairy tale."

"Trust me, my Queen… You'll never be miserable again. Not as long as I'm protecting you."

Held in his embrace, Anna drifted off to sleep. The next morning, she was left to wonder exactly when his wings had formed a protective cocoon around her.


	7. Chapter 7: Fairy Tales

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Jingo,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter VII

Fairy Tales

---

Anna stared up at the black fortress before them. It was so predictable she wanted to laugh, right down to the four spires that protruded from its corners. It even had a drawbridge, which was lowered invitingly. Black stone gargoyles leered at them from the edges of the roof, high above.

"Well," Anna said, "at least we know something about our villain."

"He reads a lot of fairy tales?" Luseik responded dryly.

"Well, you have to admit, it'll make our job easier. We know what to expect."

Luseik grinned. "An evil talking mirror, a flying carpet, an evil stepsister, and a poison apple or two."

"And don't forget the apocalyptic demon in the last chapter."

Luseik frowned. "Fairy tales don't have chapters."

"Last few pages."

He shrugged. "It really doesn't matter. All we have to do is beat the snot out of our friend Akarui--"

"Not necessarily," Anna reminded him. "Who knows, maybe he'll agree to stop building that… thing… if we just explain to him why we're here."

"Oh, right, just ask him nicely and he'll stop. Anna, have you ever read an adventure novel? The bad guys don't 'compromise.' They think 'compromise' means 'cooperate and I'll kill you quickly.' Talking doesn't work with them."

Alnevar sighed breezily. "Enough with the bad book jokes! I wanna go kill something! We're here to get that dragon guy to stop doing whatever it is he's doing, so killing him will work just fine."

Luseik spun to face Alnevar and raised an eyebrow. "Why so aggressive? This is, after all, a mission of diplomacy."

Althemen snorted.

"For the time being," Luseik amended. With a flourish, he spun on his heel and began to step onto the drawbridge.

_Shink_.

It wasn't a physical noise so much as something Anna sensed. She dove in front of Luseik just as the tangled web sprung up to ensnare him. Instead, it was slung over her own mind, and she collapsed, paralyzed as the link between body and mind was broken. She heard Luseik scream, "_Anna!_" before everything dulled and finally vanished. She realized she was still _aware,_ just not of anything in the physical world. There were strands, like silk, completely covering her mind. They were enticing, inviting... Encroaching… She almost wanted to reach out and touch one…

No! She knew that particular web, and if she touched it… She shuddered and retreated inside herself. She threw up her inner barriers and reinforced them with Ebon-Gray shields. She couldn't do anything to them, but she would hold out as long as she could--

She felt something strange. She opened her inner barriers a crack to see something hacking away at the strands with haste, but great skill.

"Satiyen!" she tried to shout, but no sound came out. Still, the presence turned to face her briefly.

"Shield yourself. Strengthen your inner barriers. Wait it out. You'll be safe soon. Hurry, get inside--" The strands began to encroach upon Satiyen again and he stopped talking to continue attacking them. Knowing there was nothing else she could do, she obeyed and waited. Finally, the blankness began to fade and she saw fuzzy shapes and heard muffled sounds. It continued to fade until the world was clear again. She realized belatedly that she was on her back, and Satiyen was… on her.

She reddened. Satiyen backed away and stood up, not seeming alarmed.

"And just what," Luseik snarled, "was that all about?"

Satiyen rolled his eyes and explained calmly. "Don't get bent out of shape, Luseik. I was leaning over her to cut the strands, but realized I would have to sever the link between my body and my mind to have enough control to completely get rid of them. I went physically unconscious, my body went limp, and you know the rest."

"Right." Luseik helped Anna up. "Well, we know two _more_ things about our enemy. He's either a Black Widow, which is unlikely since he's a guy, or he's got one working for him."

"Why is it unlikely? Satiyen's a Black Widow."

"Satiyen's a freak. Don't think he's a prime example of a Dachrean. How many other male Black Widows exist? Two. The Sadist and the High Lord of Hell."

Anna frowned. "Well, what else do we suddenly miraculously know?"

"He didn't expect us to have more than one Black Widow with us. I'm guessing that spell was meant for you, even if I was the one who set it off. If Satiyen hadn't been here…"

Anna and Luseik both shuddered.

"Speaking of which," Anna said. She turned to Satiyen and bit her lip. She grabbed his paw and held tightly onto it. "Thank you so much, Satiyen."

He pulled his paw away and waved it nonchalantly. "Hey, hey, what was I supposed to do? Stand back, and then get mutilated by Luseik when he realized I could have helped? Besides, Anna, he's not the only one who cares about you. You're the Queen of all of us now. He may be your Consort, but a court consists of more than a Queen and her Consort." He puffed out his chest proudly. "You can't forget the Master of the Guard, after all."

Anna raised an eyebrow. "I take it that's what you are?"

"That's what I was in the last court I served in. It's your choice, after all, but I can't really see Keski as a Master of the Guard, if you get my drift."

Keski bristled. Anna laughed.

"Anyway," Luseik said loudly, "What are we going to do now? Continue charging blindly ahead?"

"Sounds good to me," Satiyen said.

Althemen sighed, exasperated. "Haven't you people ever heard of probing?"

Luseik turned to Althemen, his eyes narrowed. His patience with Althemen was already a thread, and it was thinning, Anna could tell. "Our enemy is a dragon. His power runs deeper even than the Black. Probably deeper than the Ebony. Do you think even my probes would detect a trap laid by such a foe?"

Althemen returned the glare. "At the very least," he said too softly, "attempting to detect such traps would be better than charging blindly ahead and putting _my daughter_ at risk." The ground around his feet was frosted over. The temperature around them had dropped. An Ebon-Gray Warlord Prince might not have much chance against a Black-Jeweled one, but he was damn well not going to stand by while Anna was in danger.

She smiled. Maybe he wasn't so cold as he pretended. Well, metaphorically. He was pretty physically cold right now, thanks to Luseik's provocation.

"She may be your daughter, but she's my Queen. I wouldn't willingly to anything to put her at risk."

Althemen's breath condensed in the air, yet he stayed frighteningly calm.

"Then I don't see what the problem is. If I care because she's my daughter, and you care because she's your Queen, then we are both agreeing that she is important and should be protected. Is this correct?"

Luseik bared his teeth and spun on his heel. He tromped over the drawbridge cursing and muttering something about damned irritating humans. Which, of course, had Althemen baring his own teeth and twitching his wings, insulted.

Finally, Anna laid a hand on her father's shoulder, gave him a stern look, and took off after Luseik.

---

Althemen brushed the ice crystals off of his clothing and said quietly, "She's either brave or stupid. Not many people would dare to give an enraged Warlord Prince a look like that."

Satiyen snorted. "She's your daughter. She probably figured she wouldn't hurt her."

"Warlord princes have been known to do much worse than hurt people when they are consumed in the cold rage. Haven't you heard of the Sadist?"

Satiyen shuddered. "Even in Dachrea, there are rumors."

Althemen smirked. "In what you call the Pureblood Realms, they are more than rumors. They are definite truth. Hell's fire, I _saw_ the man once. He looked right at me… Gave me a look that chilled me down to the bone. Then he was gone."

Satiyen drew in a long breath, and let it out. "Think Luseik's calmed down yet?"

"Am _I_ calmed down yet?" Althemen said, amused. The temperature had risen, but was just barely comfortable. It still felt as though they'd just stepped out of a giant icebox.

Keski had been crouched behind Satiyen for some time now. He crawled out into the open, then scurried up Satiyen's leg, pulling himself up the wehr's fur until he reached Satiyen's shoulder, where he perched, currently in the shape of some small primate. He eyed Althemen. "You don't like Luseik, do you?" he said.

There was a long pause, during which no one moved.

"What?" Keski looked around.

Althemen raised an eyebrow. "You're pretty smart, aren't you?" he said, shaking his head.

He glanced around and froze. He turned his head to face Satiyen. "Where's Alnevar?"

Satiyen tilted his head slightly. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen him for a while now."

"Damn it, Alnevar…"

---

"Luseik, just--" She came up behind him and tried to stop him.

"Anna, go back to the group. I'll be there in a minute."

"Luseik--" He spun around.

"Anna, damn it, I just need to calm down, all right? You're not helping!"

"Luseik, just let me--"

He snapped his wings to their full span and roared. The ground shuddered, and Anna cowered.

No one said anything for a moment.

When Anna looked at Luseik again, she saw pain in his eyes. But she knew there was pain in her own, too.

"Anna, I--"

"No, I get it," she said quietly. Her lower jaw trembled. "I'm only valuable as a Queen, and as something to mount at night, is that it?"

"No! Anna--"

She backed away from him.

"My opinion doesn't mean anything, right? I'm just a body, just an asset, just equipment to help you do your job, then amuse yourself with later. Not a mind. Not a person. Well, I'm sick of the way you're nice when it's convenient, then treat me like I'm worthless whenever you're mad."

"Anna!"

"Bastard." She spun around and started to walk away. When he laid a hand on her shoulder, she raked her fingernails across it and kept walking, ignoring his strangled cries of protest. _Damn_ him! How long did her think she'd let him act like this? Be nice and kind when it suited him, but whenever he was mad over any little thing, just blow her off like she didn't matter. Well, if she didn't matter, then he didn't need her, and he wouldn't suffer too traumatic a loss if she left. Hell's fire, she'd go back to Terreille and deal with Dorothea's abuse before enduring this any longer.

She began to approach the group and didn't stop when she reached them. She continued walking, not caring where she was heading.

Bastard.

---

Alnevar soared above the fortress. _Damn,_ this felt good. It had been so long since he'd actually flown just for the sake of flying. Sure, he'd flown back to Althemen's estate from Pruul--with multiple breaks along the way, since his wings were far from powerful after so much time not using them--but it had been a long time since he'd simply flown to enjoy the feel of it.

He came to a soft landing atop the fortress and looked around. Stone gargoyles lined the roof. He walked over to examine one. He didn't know much about precious stones, since the past two centuries of his life had involved mining salt, not gems, but these things weren't made from any worthless rock. They shone, despite obviously not having been polished or even cleaned in years. The eyes had even been set with delicate dark red gems. What were those called? Garnels? Garreds? He paused, pondered for a moment. Garnets, that was it. The gargoyles had garnets for eyes.

Alnevar ran his hand over the statue's head. It had ridges running down the center, but the rest was smooth. He ran his hand down the back of the smooth stone gargoyle. He felt something odd, but when he moved his hand back, it was gone. He stopped moving his hand and hesitated.

The statue rippled.

Alnevar ripped his hand away and dove away as the gargoyle spun around and leapt at him. He put a shield up around himself and tried to think.

A gargoyle had just attacked him. But--

Well this was a Realm populated by hybrids, so it probably would have a lot of what he might consider 'mythical creatures.' But it had still startled him. As he gathered his wits, he spread his wings and launched himself into the air.

Another gargoyle cannoned into him from behind with bone-shattering force.

Hell's fire, were they _all_ alive?

Yes, they were, he decided, as more attacked and he was soon buried under several heavy stone gargoyles.

Alnevar thanked the Darkness that his shields were holding out.

Alnevar prayed to the Darkness that they would keep doing so.

A tendril had been snaking itself around his mind for some time now. He only noticed it now because it had carelessly brushed his inner barriers. Before he could do anything, it lashed out and ensnared his mind. It didn't harm him, though. It just… suggested… to his mind… that he take a little nap…

Alnevar drifted off into sleep.


	8. Chapter 8: Loyalties

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter VIII

Loyalties

---

"Well, this is quite an interesting turn of events."

"Well, that was quite a cliché comment."

"Indeed. Perhaps we'll have to do something about that mouth of yours."

"Perhaps we'll have to do something about that face of yours."

There was a soft growl. Anna allowed herself a small grin. She could admit she'd been stupid, running off alone like that, but it still irked her that the second she'd managed to shake off Althemen, a shadowy figure had veritably jumped on her.

She didn't know where she was being held, but whoever was doing it was much better at it than Oebr. She hadn't seen anything except darkness since she'd been brought here, so she didn't know her captor's face. Only his voice. His irritatingly seductive voice that pissed her off to no end, because it reminded her of Luseik, and right now, she would have laughed if that stupid draghan bastard had gone and choked himself. She was using that voice as a way to enrage herself more, so that she could make all the smartass comments she could at this unseen captor. Most likely he worked for Akarui, but beyond that, it was anyone's guess.

As for the darkness… It wasn't magic, but there was _something_ wrapped around her mind. She couldn't identify it for some reason; every time she tried to focus on it, it blurred and she lost it for a few minutes. Her ability to nullify magic had no effect on it.

She was bound to some kind of upright pole or pillar by ropes spelled against witchfire, but she'd decided not to use her magic-nullifying ability on those until she had an idea of what she'd do afterward. Besides, nothing _bad_ was happening. She was actually rather enjoying telling this guy off while he waited for his boss to come to a decision.

"Tell me, little Queen, why did you leave your little group of friends?"

Anna stiffened. "That's none of your business."

"Ooh, brushed a tender spot, did I? Well, I just love pouring salt on wounds. How about you stop being so cold… And tell me what got you worked up enough to ditch your little buddies?"

"It's none of your damn business!"

"Perhaps when Lord Akarui is done with you, I will be rewarded for my work with a taste of your blood… It would certainly improve my own features some."

A cold, clammy finger brushed her chin. Every muscle in her body tightened and she found herself trying to shrink as far from that horrible touch as possible.

The darkness lifted and was replaced by a dim light. Before her stood a corpse. Literally. It had once been… She bared her teeth involuntarily. A draghan.

His skin was bluish-gray and decayed, most of it hanging off his bones listlessly. His head was a skull, no living tissue visible on it except for his eyes, which were disturbingly lively and glistening with moisture even as his skull was dull and unpolished.

His clothing, however, wasn't dead and old. He wore black trousers with yellow trim, a black tunic with a yellow undertunic showing at the sleeves and waist, and a small pendant on his chest with a Gray Jewel.

She gulped to keep herself from vomiting on the spot.

"How rude," he said, smiling. As if he had any other option. She shuddered.

"Well, it's not often I have the chance to converse with a zombie," she said.

He looked taken aback. "The proper term is demon-dead," he said stiffly.

"But it doesn't change the fact that you're a walking corpse."

"Your beautiful face hides a cold and hurtful nature, just as my decayed exterior hides a vital and young heart. Did you know I was killed by a Pureblood when I was only four hundred years old? Terrified at the sight of me. He was no less terrified when I came after him afterward. I killed that fool, just as I'm sure Lord Akarui will allow me to kill you. I drank deep of his blood… But it was nowhere near as sweet as yours must be."

Anna pulled back as he reached out to stroke her chin again.

"Such a beautiful, lively young woman. I'm sure you have your uses outside of consumption…" A lustful glint came into his eyes and Anna froze.

She couldn't wait much longer. She poured her ability into the spell on the ropes and sensed it vanish. A tongue of witchfire licked at the edge of the rope and continued to burn. She couldn't make it any bigger lest it burn her as well, but soon the rope would be thin enough to snap.

"I wouldn't have sex with you even if you weren't some centuries-old undead freak. Vengeful men turn me off."

His hand left a red mark on her face. "You may be valuable to Lord Akarui, but your power will work just as well even if you're injured… remember that, wench."

The rope snapped. She swung her arm forward and, though she was loathe to touch him, brought it down on his shoulder. She turned slightly to the side and brought her leg forward with the skill that comes through years of secret practice, and had him on his rear end in a second. Before he could react, she knelt by him, grabbed his skull, and unleashed Ebon-Gray strength into his mind until she didn't even sense a flicker of life in him.

She drew her arm across her forehead and glanced around. The room was large but bare except for the pillars spaced throughout it, one of which she'd been tied to, and a large empty table in the center. There was a door in one corner, which she promptly headed for.

---

"Wake up, Alnevar. Wake up! Get up and--"

Alnevar's eyes snapped open. Luseik stood over him. "Hell's fire, what happened?"

"From the looks of things, you were attacked by a bunch of gargoyles. Your own fault, I'd say, flying off like that. You're damn lucky we heard you yelling up here or you'd be screwed. Now get up and help us find Anna."

Alnevar was up in a heartbeat. "Anna's gone? Where?"

"We don't know, but it's a good bet she's inside this fortress. She got mad at me  
and--" Luseik broke off, bit his lip. He drew in a breath. "She got mad at me and stormed off on her own… Althemen said something pulled her into a shadow. We think she's inside the castle, but we heard you yelling and I flew up to see what was up. Like I said, you're damn lucky we heard you."

"Where are the gargoyles?"

"In about a hundred thousand tiny smashed pieces, way back down on the ground."

"Ah."

"You ready? I'd like to find Anna before she's eaten by some giant monster."

"Nice sense of humor you've got there." Alnevar walked to the edge of the fortress and looked down at Althemen, who glared back up, and Keski and Satiyen, who milled agitatedly around the entrance to the fortress.

Alnevar tipped forward and dove off the building.

Luseik rolled his eyes and followed.

---

"Luseik, look out!"

Luseik spread his wings and slipped into a fighting stance instantly. When nothing happened, he turned to Keski, who still sat, in the form of a small monkey, on Satiyen's shoulder.

"Yes, Keski?" he said stiffly.

"I thought I saw something."

"And?"

"It… It was a shadow."

"And what have we learned?"

"Um… You get mad when I tell you to look out for shadows."

"Close enough. I don't want to hear a word out of you unless you see something with glowing red eyes, a million gleaming white fangs, and black claws. And two heads. It has to have two heads. All right?"

"Yes," Keski said gloomily. "I was just trying to help."

"I said to be quiet. Do you see any red-eyed, white-fanged, black-clawed, two-headed monsters, Keski?"

"No."

"Then can it."

Keski growled. Luseik narrowed his eyes.

Satiyen frowned. "Luseik, we know you're tense--"

Luseik laughed loudly and obnoxiously. "Tense? Me? Ha! No, my Queen hates me and she's being held hostage by a dragon who's been destroying hundreds of souls to create a Jewel darker than the Ebony that anyone can wear, but how in the name of Hell could you possibly think I'm tense, Satiyen?"

"Ha ha. But really, Luseik, you don't need to take it out on us."

"Really? And who should I take it out on?"

There was a soft rumbling and everyone froze. The shadows around them seemed to deepen and shift.

Gejks… Hundreds of them. All of them convened in the middle of the corridor a few yards in front of Luseik and piled onto one another until they formed one massive shadowy creature.

Keski's eyes popped out of his head. "How about the red-eyed, white-fanged, black-clawed, two-headed monster?"

---

(Congratulations on getting past Dicrus,) the dragon said. His voice was similar to Oebr's but it lacked the soothing, calming quality. (And, of course, on finding me.)

"So you're the guy we came to find," Anna muttered. "I thought you'd be harder to find. And more impressive, to tell the truth."

(I am not impressive?)

"Well, if I hadn't met your brother Oebr first, you would be. But he's… I don't know. He's black, for one. You're red."

(Ah. You do not like red?) In an instant, the dragon became a deep, entrancing bluish-black. Anna's mouth formed a silent O.

"Ah. So you can change colors."

(More or less, yes. In any case, human, I believe you are here for a reason, no? My brother sent you, I believe.)

"Oh, that. I'm not really interested in that anymore."

There was a pause. (You are not here for my brother?)

"Well, I was, but Luseik--that's one of the men I was traveling with--is such a prick that I just couldn't stand him anymore… I was actually leaving when that corpse in your living room jumped on me and brought me in here."

(Indeed. Do you even know why my brother sent you here?)

"To stop you building that device thing. With the dark Jewel."

(Yes.)

"I don't care if you do make it, so long as you give me one of the Jewels."

The dragon bared its teeth in a feral grin. (If you will agree to serve me, I will give you all the Dark Jewels you desire.)

Anna paused. "Dark? You're calling them Dark Jewels?"

(There is something objectionable about this?)

"Well, yeah. It's lame. Call them something like… Wait, what color are they physically?"

(That is as of yet unknown.)

"Oh… Well, don't name them until you have seen then. Then you can come up with something better."

(I ask you again; in exchange for as many of these new Jewels as you desire, will you serve me?)

Anna felt reckless. Why not? Luseik no longer held any attraction for her. And she felt like hurting him back worse than just clawing his hand. She grinned.

"Damn straight."


	9. Chapter 9: Memories

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter IX

Memories

---

_"It says that your brother will see the error of his ways in due time. This will come only through great hardship and be followed by great sacrifice. However, you will be forgiven by him, and you will forgive him, and you will be given a chance to redeem yourself. But until that time, you must not interfere. This is his trial. It is his test."_

_The Black Widow leaned back from her divining tangled web and faced Alnevar squarely. Her brown eyes were dull, void of life. Not surprising, living in a Territory that had spread its legs for Hayll's rule and allowed for Hourglass covens to be persecuted. Black Widows, all of them, had gone into hiding. Alnevar had been either lucky or skilled—or both—to find this one. Or perhaps… Yes, it was most likely that this Black Widow had known he needed her help and sought **him** out, not the other way around._

_In any case, he had gotten the information he wanted. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he had gotten the information he sought. Being told that he couldn't further his own redemption wasn't exactly pleasing._

_He might have suspected that the Black Widow was lying to him, but those dull eyes, the ragged appearance—this was no false Black Widow working for Dorothea SaDiablo. This Black Widow was genuine. And he wore the Gray. He'd know if there was some Red or lighter illusion over the woman, and there was none. The only people who wore the Gray or darker were Alnevar and many of the people in his family, and the SaDiablo bloodline—the true SaDiablo bloodline, held by the High Lord of Hell, not that twisted river of filth that Dorothea prided herself on being part of. Well, those two, and the Sadist himself._

_An involuntary shiver went through Alnevar at the thought of Daemon Sadi, and he quickly stood up, pushing his thoughts aside for the moment. "Thank you, ma'am," he said as politely as he could manage, and called in a handful of gold marks. He set them on the makeshift table._

_She eyed the money. "This is more than I—"_

_"Take the extra," Alnevar said. "You need it. I don't."_

_"You—"_

_"I'm a slave, miss. At the very least, I'm guaranteed a bit of food every day and a place to sleep. You're not. Please, take it as a gift."_

_The Black Widow sighed, then nodded. "Thank you, Lord."_

_Alnevar's lips curled. It had been a century since anyone had called him 'Lord.' Nowadays, it was always 'filth' and 'maggot' and 'worm' and a dozen other derogatory titles._

_And the last person to call Alnevar 'Lord' had sold him into slavery._

_---_

_Alnevar shook with grief and rage as he gazed down upon the corpse of his mother, Tesora. Blood still poured from the wound he'd sliced in her neck._

_"So," Caelar muttered from the doorway. "Seems the little birdie that told me you couldn't be trusted was right."_

_"You bastard," Alnevar hissed. "You gutter son of a—"_

_"Simmer down, now," Caelar said amiably as he held up a hand. The Green Jewel in his ring flashed, and Alnevar's unsuspecting inner barriers were assaulted by Green strength. They were halfway down before Alnevar remembered himself enough to reinforce them with his own strength._

_"Cheap as always," he snarled at his father, who snapped his wings shut._

_"You'll learn your place soon enough."_

_"Who told you I 'couldn't be trusted' in the first place? Dorothea? Someone who works for her? She's wanted control of me and Althemen for years, you know that!"_

_"And I want power. You know that. A Green Jewel is just dark enough to get me some respect if I can get into the High Priestess' good graces. And how better to do that than by giving her something she has always wanted?"_

_As understanding dawned on Alnevar, his face contorted into a twisted mask of rage and he threw himself at Caelar._

_Ebon-Gray strength suddenly shot through his mind and everything vanished._

_---_

_"She's too far gone to be helped, Alnevar," the Black Widow said sadly. "I'm sorry."_

_Alnevar pulled at his hair. "But how? How can there be no way to reverse this—this taint?"_

_The Black Widow gasped. To call one of the Blood tainted was to insult something deeply rooted in the heart of the Blood. The Black Widow shook her head. "There isn't."_

_Alnevar stood up viciously and stalked around the room. When he sat back down, he was not as angry as he was simply upset. He'd known this Black Widow for years. She'd never told him anything displeasing, anything that troubled him. So how could she suddenly see something so upsetting in a tangled web? "It isn't fair," he said like a wronged child. "It isn't fair that we should have to suffer because of that bitch Dorothea's twisted goals."_

_"Nothing nowadays is fair, dear," the Black Widow said quietly, and Alnevar looked up, instantly feeling guilty. Of course; how could he have forgotten? Black Widows were persecuted in Territories under Dorothea's rule. This woman probably led a much more 'unfair' life than he could even imagine._

_"I'm sorry," he said, examining his knees. "It wasn't my place to say something like that. But Tesora… She was the one person in my family who ever really…"_

_"Loved you?"_

_Alnevar looked up sharply. After a moment, he relented and nodded, his wings sagging pathetically. "Yes. My father pays attention to my older brother Althemen because he wears the Ebon-Gray and is a Warlord Prince. Caelar thinks that promoting Althemen as his heir will bring our family power, even though we can't be traced back to any of Hayll's Hundred Families. On the other hand, Althemen hates me because even though I'm a Warlord and I wear the Gray, because I have full-sized wings and he doesn't. But Tesora… She's Dhemlan, not Eyrien, so she doesn't care about wings, and she was the daughter of an innkeeper before she met my father, so she doesn't care about power."_

_"She saw something good in you that she doesn't see in your father or your brother," the Black Widow said._

_"Yes. I don't know what… But I'm glad for it. If it hadn't been for her, I might have turned out a good deal more cold and bitter than I am anyway."_

_"I think that whatever it is she saw in you… is what I'm seeing now. Your brother isn't tainted, as you put it, but you have something he will never have. But your father—"_

_"Is a useless, power-hungry shell of a man," Alnevar snapped. "I don't care about him. I want to help Tesora."_

_"Tesora is little more than a puppet of Dorothea, Alnevar. She was broken of her Jewels and her mind. All that is left of her… is a tool."_

_Tiny chunks of plaster were shaken from the ceiling when the door slammed._

_---_

_Alnevar opened his eyes and instantly shut them again, blinded by the light in the room. He opened them slowly and let his eyes adjust._

_He was in what looked to be a carriage of some sort, filled to bursting with chained men. Upon noticing this, he realized that he, too, was also bound hand and foot. And he also felt something unfamiliar between his legs. When he looked, he found a small gold ring around his organ._

_A Ring of Obedience._

_Damn it! Damn it! Damn it all to the bowels of Hell! He'd been so close to getting rid of Caelar—and then Alnevar had ruined it! That filthy, spoiled, oh-so-wonderful heir to the family had ruined everything. Someday Alnevar would pay him back. Althemen would not go unpunished for this._

_---_

_Althemen dashed into the room a moment too late. He saw Tesora on the floor, and Alnevar, in a mad rage, leaping at Caelar. He did the first thing that came to his mind. He unleashed his Ebon-Gray strength on Alnevar._

_Alnevar fell. Althemen stared at the carnage on the floor._

_"He killed her," Caelar said. "He killed her, Althemen. He killed her."_

_"Shut up. He may have killed her, but this is your doing, and we both know that."_

_"Althemen, I didn't—"_

_"I said SHUT UP!" As Althemen shouted, the chair in the corner exploded. The candelabra on the wall followed. Caelar backed into the wall, horrified._

_"In the past year, you have done **nothing** helpful except to lick Dorothea's boots. You might think you're bringing this family honor and power, but what kind of honor is achieved by being a simpering fool? Tell me that, father!"_

_"I—I simply—"_

_"Just stop, Caelar. You're only making yourself look like an idiot."_

_"Althemen, I—"_

_"I believe I told you to shut the hell up."_

_Never taking his eyes off Caelar, Althemen raised his right arm parallel to the floor and pointed to a window. The window exploded and, in an event one would be hard-pressed to call coincidence, a sizable shard of glass embedded itself in the side of Caelar's head._

_After unleashing enough Ebon-Gray strength into Caelar's mind to ensure the final death, Althemen turned to face Alnevar, still lying unconscious on the floor._

_"And you," he said. "You may have been manipulated, but trust you not to sniff it out, not to realize you're being made a fool of." He approached the limp half-Eyrien and kneeled beside him. "I have always despised you, my so-called brother, for more reasons than you will ever know. Wings? Ha! You truly are a fool, if you think my inadequate wings are the reason I hate you. But this… Oh, yes, this is the perfect chance to get rid of you for good. I can't kill you. No, that would violate the agreement. So I'll have that much mercy on you. But don't think you'll get away from this without punishment. Oh-ho, no."_

_Within the hour, two Purple-Dusk Jeweled Warlords had Ringed Alnevar, chained him, and carried him out of the house. Before the week was out, Alnevar would be mining salt under the harsh desert sun of Pruul. Althemen smiled cruelly at the thought._

_---_

_Luseik looked at his father with a bored expression. "Well?"_

_Versiver frowned. He'd always thought life as the pampered son of the rulers of Hayll Dachrea had made his son soft, almost useless. Now was the perfect chance to test his theory. If he was wrong, and he prayed to the Darkness that he was, then his son would go on to rule Askavi Dhemlan for, at the very least, ten thousand years._

_If he was right, then Luseik would die in Terreille, and this, right now, would be the last time Versiver saw him._

_"Luseik," he said. "You have been searching for a Queen you wish to serve as Warlord Prince of Askavi for some time now, unsuccessfully."_

_"Yes," Luseik said._

_"We have found traces of a Queen in one of the Pureblood Realms, Terreille, whose lineage can be traced back to that of my great grandfather, Dicrus."_

_"So?"_

_"She exhibits signs of possessing his gift, as well."_

_Luseik sat up straight. "But the gift was never discerned. Everyone agreed it was a joke, a lie, that there wasn't any gift in the first place. The Black Widow—"_

_"Was telling the truth. After Dicrus died at the hand of that Pureblood, the Pureblood attempted to burn out his mind."_

_"The Pureblood did burn out his mind."_

_"Tried to. Something in Dicrus' Self repelled the magic and the Pureblood gave up and fled. Dicrus is demon-dead, Luseik, and serving a dragon. Kennesra divined this in a tangled web."_

_Luseik sat down, holding his head. "Well, fine, but what does this have to do with me?"_

_"You are going to search out this Queen, this Black Widow who bears the gift of Dicrus, and she is going to rule Askavi. You shall serve her."_

_"But I am still trying to choose a—"_

_"You amuse yourself with women, Luseik, and then discard them when you are done. That may be the way of your friends, but it is not the way of the Kusefora family to which you belong. You have had a year to choose a Queen, Luseik, and your chance has passed. You will go to Terreille, and you will find the Black Widow. That is all."_

_"But—"_

_"That is all, Luseik."_


	10. Chapter 10: Dangerous Creatures, Part I

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter X

Dangerous Creatures, Part I

---

"But where to begin? That, of course, is nearly as pressing a matter as that about which you seem to be so urgently fervent. If you wish me to aid you, I want more information."

The shadowed man leaned back and blew a delicate smoke ring into the air. All it made Pekren think about was the metaphorical noose about his neck, the noose that tightened with every moment he wasted here. Pekren tugged at the collar of his shirt as the thought grew unpleasantly solid. "That's all I was told."

The shadowed man leaned forward. "Did I just, Pekren, hear you make use of the word 'please'?" He smiled and raised the cigarette to his lips once more. "Oh, this _is_ going to be fun."

"Then you'll do it?"

"Of course I'll do it. He's become a nuisance to me as well."

"Ah--Yes, yes, I should have expected that."

The shadowed man reached out to touch a candle on the table that Pekren had been glancing at every few minutes, wondering why the room must remain dark. The shadowed man barely touched the wick of the candle, (although even that was unnecessary in all actuality, whereas he might have lit the candle with the merest gesture), and it flared to life. Pekren's eyes widened and he leaned back just barely, unable to help himself.

"Do not worry yourself," said the pale young man with flowing silver hair who sat across the table, staring at him with completely white eyes. "That is everyone's initial reaction. I simply felt I should let you see my countenance once before sending you on your way. And I want you to know that Dachrea is not purely populated by animal and human hybrids. There are other, more... interesting creatures as well." He smiled, revealing several rows of tiny, pointed fangs. Pekren stammered incoherently. The man laughed and, suddenly enough to make Pekren's eyes bulge, his hair was black, his eyes had ordinary Hayllian golden irises, and his mouth was closed. When he spoke, though Pekren squinted, his teeth appeared completely ordinary. "Of course, you won't tell anyone of that interesting fact, now, will you? After all, some of those creatures are rather dangerous."

---

Luseik stared at the door.

"Rather cliché, isn't it? It's just like you said, just like a fairy ta—"

"Enough!" Luseik snarled as he turned his head, fast enough to hurt himself, to glare at Satiyen, who whined instinctively and shrank back. "I'm done with jokes! I'm going to get Anna back. Whatever I have to explain, or say, or do—I will. I will."

"I apologize, Prince," Satiyen said, using the proper title afforded a Warlord Prince, as was Luseik.

Prince Luseik fixed Satiyen with a stare so intense Satiyen couldn't help but look at the floor, the walls, anything but Luseik, even though the piercing green eyes kept drawing him back to them. He knew Luseik was rifling through his thoughts as one might rifle through a book, and only thanked the Darkness that the draghan wasn't doing so like the rest of the Blood might—without bothering to take the care necessary to ensure that those thoughts stayed intact. And the method with which Luseik was searching Satiyen's mind made a great deal of difference as well; but then, he'd made himself vulnerable to this kind of inspection the moment he'd agreed to serve a draghan, hadn't he? So he couldn't complain. Instead, he merely waited.

"Don't treat me like a stranger just because I've bared my own slightly more metaphorical fangs at you, Satiyen," Luseik said finally. "With your past, you should know better than anyone else here how painful it is for a Warlord Prince to know that his Queen no longer desires his service."

Satiyen choked. _Low blow, you heartless bastard. And you wonder why Anna is pissed off at you._

Luseik had probably heard that as loudly as if Satiyen had shouted it. But the draghan narrowed his eyes, then smiled. Satiyen, for some reason, could not read the smile, but it didn't look hostile.

"I apologize," he said. "I know your memories of that… time… are nothing but painful. It wasn't my place to dredge it up."

"What _isn't_ the place of someone as politically important as you, Prince?" Satiyen said coolly. "I may be the next best thing to a servant to you, but if I may make a suggestion, I think you should watch what you say to your friends, or you won't have any before long."

Luseik's upper lip curled. His eyes narrowed slightly. His green eyes blazed.

Satiyen returned the glare, but when his teeth were bared, it was slightly more intimidating. And when the low, guttural growl emanated from his wolf's throat, Luseik was forced to back down.

"Fine," he said. He seemed to be searching for something else to say, but failed and spun to face the door. Satiyen grinned smugly in his own wolf-like fashion.

Althemen, silent until now with everyone else, stepped forward. "Look, I don't mean to interrupt your little chat, but can we please get on with the rescuing of my daughter? You might have burned your bridges with her, but I've done no such thing, and I, for one, would very much like to—"

Luseik was at Althemen's throat, his black claws digging viciously into the skin so fast that Althemen was still talking when he realized he was pinned against the wall. He yelped and struggled uselessly. Alnevar started to step forward, then remembered exactly why he hated Althemen and stepped back again, a blank expression on his face; Keski and Satiyen merely watched.

"I don't know what bridges you think I've burned, but I'm pretty sure that saving her from a psychotic dragon will much outweigh whatever inconveniences I've caused her feminine ego."

In an act that startled the three gaping onlookers, Althemen's knee rocketed into Luseik's crotch. Luseik released him instantly and doubled over, howling in pain. Althemen was beyond arm's reach in less than a second. Once he got his bearings, he shot a brief blast of Ebon-Gray strength at Luseik, just enough to make him stagger.

"I don't care how dark your Jewels, how important your social standing, or how pissy your attitude," Althemen snarled, "but if you ever again refer to my daughter as a feminine ego, I will fight you with everything I've got, and that, _Prince_, is more than I think you'd care to find out." Another blast sent Luseik back fast enough to leave an impression in the wall. Althemen backed off, never taking his wary gaze off of Luseik.

As Althemen passed Alnevar on his way back to the door, he heard Alnevar mutter, "Good job, brother."

Althemen spun to face Alnevar so fast that Alnevar took a startled step back. "You are not my brother," he said, and almost—almost, but not quite—hesitated before adding, "as far as I'm concerned." Something like irony flickered in Althemen's eyes, but Alnevar ignored it and sighed.

"I'm not even going to bother continuing to try and convince you that Tesora was—"

"If you still think this is about Tesora, or your precious wings, then you are more incompetent than I've always believed. Alnevar, Dachrea is not purely populated by animal and human hybrids. There are other, more... interesting creatures as well. And some of those creatures are rather dangerous." And, turning away from a dumbstruck Alnevar, Althemen walked to the door and pushed it open.

---

"If what you have shown me is really how Jewels are created, that they are simply the scales of a dragon, then how can there be any other way to create them?" Anna said. She was still tired, though she'd gotten a quick nap and had a cup of extremely well-made coffee which, to her experienced probes, had held nothing but what it was supposed to have. Still, the feeling of cobwebs draped over her consciousness wouldn't leave. Maybe she needed more than a nap and coffee. Who knew? However tired she felt, she was still coherent, so she could always get sleep later.

(The question is not easy to answer. Otherwise there would have been artificial Jewels long before now, obviously.)

"Well, of course. But how did you answer the question, if it's so difficult?"

(Even the most difficult questions can be answered with the right tools. And as I myself am a dragon, I have the equivalent to an answer key to this particular question. Wouldn't you agree?)

"I see. But you still haven't answered _my_ question."

(If you thought on it, I'm sure you could come up with the answer. What are the Jewels?)

"Dragon scales."

(In aless literalsense, if you please.)

"I always used to think of them as keys. Like they are a small way to access the power of the Darkness itself. People with darker Jewels can access more of that power."

(That is close enough to the truth. Now, if these keys to the Darkness are in fact dragon scales, then what would that make dragons? And continuing from that question, why, dear Anna, should the _scales_ of a dragon be the only object that allows access to the power of the Darkness?)

Anna gaped. "You mean—?"

(I think you understand. Now, I have something I would like you to see. Pekren should be arriving any moment now…)

---

Althemen now led the group; Satiyen followed happily, Keski perched silently on his shoulder; Alnevar followed thoughtfully behind them, lost in his ponderings; and Luseik trailed behind, glowering and fuming silently.

Satiyen caught up with Althemen and strode beside him. "I'm amazed you still have all your limbs," Satiyen said. "Luseik's never failed to respond to a threat like that before."

"Yes, well, most men find themselves at a loss for words when they find someone's knee placed rather forcefully between their legs."

Satiyen laughed. "Yes, well, you have a point there. I just wanted to say thanks."

"Thanks?" Althemen stopped and faced Satiyen. "Thanks? What exactly are you thanking me for?"

Satiyen damped his irritation. Getting frustrated or mad wouldn't help the already high-strung group save Anna any faster. "Look, I know you were just defending Anna, but you're the first person other than Lord Versiver to knock Luseik off his high horse."

Althemen continued walking. "I see."

"I can usually call Luseik my friend, and I like to think it's the same for him, but I always get the feeling that he doesn't see me that way. It always feels as though he looks down on everyone else. I just don't think he'll look down at you for a long time."

"He can spit on my shoes if it makes him happy," Althemen said quietly, closing his eyes as he continued walking, "but like I said, if he is ever again stupid enough to speak of my daughter as a 'feminine ego' I will not hesitate to unleash a power that goes beyond Jewels in order to let him know his mistake." He bit his tongue then, as if he had said too much. He looked at Satiyen, and Satiyen instantly knew that this was a test.

"You know, you were talking very softly just now, and I didn't quite hear what you said."

Althemen smiled, and it was a genuine smile. "Don't worry. It was nothing important."

---

Anna stared down at the object she held in her hands. Pekren, as Akarui had called him, had scurried out the instant she'd taken the thing, reminding her strikingly of a rodent.

(It is beautiful, is it not?)

Anna turned to face the dragon.

"It's—It—The—Yes," she said lamely. A soft snort that could have been construed as a chuckle issued from the dragon.

(Open your inner barriers to it. You can bond with it as you bonded with your current Jewels.)

Anna stared at it for a few more seconds. She could almost feel all the lives, all the human power it had been infused with to make it usable as a Jewel. Screaming, begging for release, but eternally trapped within it. She opened her inner barriers a crack, and, feeling nothing hostile, threw them open. The bond was formed within seconds. It was dark, much darker than her Ebon-Gray, and for a moment, she felt as though it was pulling her consciousness into its deep, tantalizing depths. But then the sensation was gone and she felt nothing. Nothing except for a new river of power she now had access to, a river much darker than her natural Jewels. This… This felt good, as nothing in her entire life had. Nothing except her Birthright Ceremony, when she'd gone in expecting no better then an Opal, and walked away with a Sapphire Jewel. She'd never before or since felt this ecstasy, this unadulterated happiness.

Or this glorious power.

She clutched the object and drank its power into her own body until the dragon's voice pierced her thoughts.

(You may be able to bond with it as with a Jewel,) Akarui said gravely, (but its power is still a danger to you if you do not allow your body to grow accustomed to it.)

"But it feels so wonderful—"

(If you absorb so much power into yourself before growing to accept it, you will be pulled into it as you would by attempting to bond with the Black. It is possible for you to wear and use that as naturally as you do the Ebon-Gray, but not at once, not immediately.)

With this knowledge, Anna broke off her contact with the object. "I—of course," she panted. "I'm sorry."

(You can be excused your mistake. The power is darker than any you have ever glimpsed, no?)

"It's darker than the Black."

(It is darker even than what Witch herself wears.)

"Doesn't Witch wear the—"

(Ebony.)

Anna let the matter drop. "How long will it be before I can—"

(Wait. The Warlord Prince and the others are nearly here.)

"Luseik and the others?"

(Yes.)

"Well, what say we give them a little surprise? I can at least use some of this power, can't I?"

(That won't be necessary. At the very least, they will be several more hours, if they make it here at all.)

"What? Why is that?"

(They have one more challenge before they arrive at their destination.)

"A challenge?"

(They've had several. It is my way of keeping security tight here. Unfortunately, they have wormed their way through every one of them. This last one, though, will give them pause. After all, Dachrea is not purely populated by animal and human hybrids. There are other, more... interesting creatures as well. And some of those creatures are rather dangerous.)


	11. Chapter 11: Mistakes

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter XI

Mistakes

---

_The Kjeran scientist pulled an insectoid claw up to tap thoughtfully on his forehead. His appearance was only slightly intimidating to the smallish man. Slightly intimidating were his two praying mantis-like claws, though they were jet black and razor sharp. Slightly intimidating were his six long black jointed legs, also jet black, ending in needle-like points. Slightly intimidating were his two solid red bulging faceted eyes. Slightly intimidating were the wings that resembled those of a locust—save, of course, that they were on a much larger scale. The only human part of his appearance was his head, for even his torso was black and protected by a black exo-skeleton that was as impenetrable as armor._

_"Results," he said in a strange accent. "Results are not of what have Iexpected."_

_The smallish man looked from the quivering mass of flesh on the table, to the Kjeran, and then down to the floor. "It's bad?"_

_"Not necessarily. Is not bad results. Simply unexpected. Experiment will must to be altered accordingly."_

_"What will happen to..." The man broke off and inclined his head to the slowly awakening creature that had once been human._

_The scientist looked at the man, his large, round, faceted insect eyes taking in his distressed appearance. "It will to be disposed of. Why are you ask?"_

_"I--No reason. So... What shall I tell the Lord?"_

_The scientist raised a black claw that hinged back and forth on the joint. "Why are you to think you not tell him the truth?"_

_The man's jaw opened, closed, and opened again. "Then I'll see you after I report back."_

_"Do that."_

---

Althemen, the new leader simply by a unanimous lack of argument, spun around. Something had troubled him. His eyes flitted about, trying to find any living thing except his current companions. Everyone else had stopped and was doing the same. It was Satiyen who first noticed a major detail, after only a few seconds. "Where's Alnevar?"

"I don't know," Althemen growled, his eyes resting on Luseik. "Luseik was walking in the back. He should have seen anything that happened to Alnevar."

"I didn't," Luseik said murderously. "I only just noticed he was gone."

"What, you were so deeply engrossed in your so-called concern for my daughter that you didn't notice when Alnevar was suddenly spirited away in front of you?" Althemen strode up to Luseik.The draghanstepped back.

"I told you, I didn't see anything. I wasn't watching Alnevar."

"You're a liar," Althemen snarled. "I hate Alnevar, and I want him dead, but I swear to you that I will be the one to make that come to pass, not you, or anyone you're working with."

"Who in Hell would I be working with!" Luseik snarled right back at the half-Eyrien. "My only mission is to return safely with Anna. Why would I harm a member of the group that is helping me do just that! If I harmed anyone it would be you, the pretentious, self-important--"

Althemen roughly grabbed Luseik's shoulder and his eyes flashed so that only Luseik could see them. Luseik's eyes widened. "You're one of--"

"Would you like to tell me what really happened to Alnevar?"

"I honestly don't know." Luseik shrugged off Althemen's hand as if he hadn't seen whatever he had seen in Althemen's eyes.

---

_"What do you mean, you can't show me the results?"_

_"I have said. Is dangerous, too much dangerous to allow get you close to experiment."_

_The smallish man ground his teeth. "The Lordis not happy. He wants results, and he wants results by month's end at the latest."_

_The Kjeran sighed, a vaguely sibilant sound that almost sounded like a rapid clicking. His voice had the same clicking quality when he said, "Is still too dangerous. The subject is… I cannot know word… subject is scared."_

_"He's scared? Why?"_

_"Has forgot who he is, where he is, what was happened to him."_

_"So he's not himself anymore?"_

_"Is still self. Lost memories, all, but still has personality."_

_"Oh, wonderful. The one thing we would have preferred that he lose."_

_"Yes. Is now vicious, though, is scared, wants information I cannot give. What is happen to him, where is, you imagine the rest."_

_"Yeah, I can." The man bit his lip. "Is he still… Can we still…"_

_"With training, will be as useful tothe Lordas you. Is good, yes?"_

_"Yes. Is very good.The Lordwill be very pleased with this. How soon will the, uh, subject be ready for… use?"_

_"The Lordwant results by end of month, yes? Then, subject will be ready by end of month."_

_The man smiled and nodded. "Very good. Thank you." He raised his hand to shake the scientist's, but paused and eyed the insectoid claw._

_The Kjeran laughed. "One moment." He stood back, and within seconds, all of the black, exo-skeleton covered extremities had bent in on themselves, skin folding over them. In half a minute, a perfectly normal human stood there. He extended a hand._

_The smallish man smiled. "Again, thank you, Doctor Keev. Rest assured, you will be greatly rewarded by your service to Lord Versiver."_

_---_

Satiyen growled, unable to help himself. "We don't have time for this! Why can't we—Why can't we retrieve Anna, finish Oebr's pointless mission, and _then_ try to find Alnevar?"

"Because," Althemen snapped, "I happen to know something about what's going on. An—My daughter wouldn't so readily abandon her friends simply because she was mad at one of them," he finished, shooting an icy glare at Luseik.

"Then what is going on? Please, inform the rest of us," Luseik said quietly.

"It is most likely that Anna is under a compulsion spell. One placed by an experienced Black Widow. Remember our little friend who rigged the drawbridge?"

"Mother night," Satiyen breathed. "Anna is in even more danger than we thought."

"I'd be willing to bet my life that Anna was softened with a subtle compulsion spell, nothing specific, just a spell to make her a bit more agreeable, a bit more compliant. Otherwise she'd notice the spell. Add onto that the allure of an offer for the use of one of these special Jewels—"

"You can't be serious! Anna wouldn't give in to that kind of bribe, it's exactly what we were sent here to stop!" Luseik was rubbing his forehead as he spoke.

"Then maybe the Black Widow who weaved our compulsion spell is a little more experienced than we know. Look, Luseik, you don't like me and I don't like you, but if we don't act fast, Anna will be lost to us forever. We're facing a dragon, Luseik. A dragon who is of the same species as the dragon Lord Lorn himself."

"_Lorn!_"

"Keep your damn voice down. I know a great deal more than you may think, and some very specific details about the nature of Lorn and his species are included in that knowledge."

"But—"

"You don't have as many allies as you think, _Prince_, and if you don't stop arguing I'll kill you right now and tell Versiver there was a terrible mistake."

"He won't believe you."

Althemen's eyes flashed again, and again, only Luseik saw them. "Won't he?"

Luseik narrowed his eyes. Althemen now seemed to remember the presence of Keski and Satiyen, who stared from where they stood several feet away. Althemen stared intently at Satiyen, who took a step back. "I only want to complete my mission," he said, "and that's to get Anna."

Althemen said something under his breath as he brushed past Satiyen, but no one quite caught it.

---

"Then our masters happen to have the same goal this time." For a fleeting moment, he thought he'd said that a bit too loud, but as no one responded, Althemen didn't fret. He continued down the hallway. Alnevar… Oh, Althemen knew exactly what had happened to Alnevar, and that fool was perfectly safe, even if no one else realized it. And the pretentious fool who'd snatched Alnevar from under their noses… Alnevar knew exactly who it was, and he'd pay for this disturbance.

Menteur would see to that.

---

_"No! I want to know what is going on! I'm not going to do anything until you tell me what in Hell is going on!"_

_"Calm yourself." Versiver set down his empty glass and gave an inquiring look to the man standing beside him, who instantly stepped forward to refill the glass._

_"I will repeat myself once more. I am Versiver, consort and husband to Kennesra, ruler of Hayll."_

_"Hayll?"_

_"Dachrea."_

_"Oh. Still—"_

_"If you want information, you will kindly hold your tongue until you get it."_

_The disheveled man sitting in the chair across from Versiver bit his tongue._

_"You were, until approximately one month previous, a subordinate of mine. You volunteered for experimental research in creating something."_

_"Creating what?"_

_"Why, Skaviar, I thought you'd at least remember the answer to that."_

_"Well, I don't."_

_"You volunteered yourself for an experiment in creating the perfect tool. And, Skaviar, my good friend of two hundred and thirty-seven years… They succeeded."_

---

_"Versiver doesn't know we stole the information from the experiment." The words were hurriedly spoken to the young, handsome blond man as he strode down the corridor alongside the nervous scientist. "Versiver doesn't know we've got spies in his service, and he doesn't know we're now capable of creating the same kind of tool he's made out of the man named Skaviar."_

_"Then what shall we do with this advantage? I'm not here to catch up on current events, Dieg, I'm here to find out what Menteur wants me to do."_

_"Of course, sir," the scientist said, nodding as he struggled to keep up with the man's long stride. "Menteur wants to duplicate the procedure. We've done it on another man, and it worked perfectly on his body, but he couldn't mentally or emotionally adapt to the changes and we had to… We terminated him. Menteur thinks you're fully capable of handling it, though. He wants you to be the subject of the procedure."_

_"Is it safe?"_

_"Perfectly. You won't feel any pain, during or after the procedure. The alterations will be purely beneficial."_

_"Then I'm in."_

_"Really?"_

_"We can't afford to let Versiver get too far ahead of us, right? And if you say the procedure is safe, Dieg, then I trust you."_

_Dieg smiled. "Then meet me here tomorrow at midday."_

_"Can do. In the meantime, I've got an appointment."_

_"Then I'll leave you to it, Prince Althemen."_

---

_Althemen swirled his wine glass a mere hour after his conversation with Dieg, gazing at the beautiful young woman sitting across the table from him, so intently staring at her lap, in which she wrung her hands constantly._

_"I've been to this restaurant many times," he said, raising an eyebrow. "The food is quite good."_

_"Oh, I'm sorry," she said quickly, and took a small bite of the expensive steak that sat on the plate before her._

_"You're spending an awful lot of time looking at your hands," Althemen persisted. "Am I that frightening?"_

_"No! I just—It's been a long time since I've been out to eat with anyone."_

_"Really? That's surprising. You're a very pretty girl."_

_"A girl? I'm at least fifty years old."_

_"And yet, in keeping with your Hayllian blood, you haven't aged a day since your twentieth birthday. Do you know how old I am, Lady? Two centuries. Two hundred years I have been alive. I do not believe I am old; I look, in fact, only as old as you. I daresay you are hardly 'old' and will not be so for many years yet."_

_The woman bit her lip and looked down again._

_"Which is why I want to say what I asked you here to tell you… We both have many long years ahead of us." Althemen strove to catch her eye, but she avoided it desperately. "Many long years," he repeated. "I—I've never met a woman to whom I could say this, but…" He reached out and took one of her hands, drawing it towards him to hold it in both of his own. She found herself looking at him as he tried to peer into her very soul through her light blue eyes. "I want to spend those years with you. And despite the shyness you affect, despite the way you avoid my eyes because you see yourself as such a lowly commoner compared to me… Despite all that, I think you want the same thing."_

_She pulled her hand away slowly. "You're not… You can't… Althemen, I couldn't… Please…"_

_Althemen stood up, pushing his chair back gently, and came around the small table to kneel in front of her. He sensed a few interested stares, but kept his eyes fixed on the woman._

_"I've spent months trying to think of when, where, how I would ask you," he said, "and I finally decided that simplicity is the best." He took her left hand in his own while his right dove into his pocket to emerge holding a small black box. His thumb flipped it open to reveal a simple but elegant silver ring with a single black stone facing directly up._

_"Mother Night," the woman breathed. "Althemen, please—"_

_"I have to ask," he said quietly. More stares were upon him now. "Would—would you please consider doing me the honor of allowing me to become your husband?"_

_She stared at him. "Althemen…"_

_"I know that you are not comfortable around high society," Althemen said, "and it is not a problem. I can help you, teach you how to—"_

_"Althemen, I can't."_

_"But why?"_

_"I just can't." She jumped up, knocking her chair back. All eyes were on the couple now. "Althemen… I'm sorry." And with that, she turned and fled the restaurant._

_"Tesora!" Althemen jumped up as if to follow her. "Tesora, please!"_

_The stares, out of respect, turned away, though Althemen knew the dinner conversation tonight would likely concern the fiasco. He let himself collapse back into his chair and stared at the wine glass. "Tesora…"_

_He picked up the wine glass, drained it, and signaled the waiter for another bottle._


	12. Chapter 12: Dangerous Creatures, Part II

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter XII

Dangerous Creatures, Part II

---

"Your disappearance doesn't seem to have fazed your companions."

"Not surprising. One of them hates me and the rest don't know me." Alnevar ground his teeth as he constantly struggled to escape the bonds about his wrists.

"Ah. Well then, shall we be a little more persistent? I'm sure we'll get their attention sooner or later." The silver-haired man smiled and approached Alnevar, who growled instinctively but couldn't do anything. "Now… I think I'll break your arm first. It's the least crucial part. After that, we'll see."

"_What!_"

"Oh, come on, Alnevar. I'm not exactly your friend, you know, so why is this so surprising? Now just hold still for a moment."

The man walked around behind Alnevar and took hold of his arm, and before Alnevar could try to wrench out of his grasp, (which would have been impossible anyway, bound as he was), he snapped Alnevar's right upper arm. Alnevar's scream lasted a good three seconds before he was able to cut it off by biting down sharply on his tongue.

"That is some of my best work yet! The skin didn't even break. And the screaming--wonderful, my friend, just wonderful. They won't be able to miss it."

Breathing hard, Alnevar could only respond with, "I thought… I wasn't… your friend?"

"Oh, no, no, no, no. I said _I_ was not _your_ friend."

Alnevar didn't respond. The man was clearly insane. He simply had to hope against hope that maybe that mortal enemy of his and those strangers might, just might, see him as being worth rescuing.

---

Anna rubbed her eyes. Sooner or later, she'd need some sleep. She couldn't keep this up. But, as before, she was aware, and she was coherent, so she let it go. But she still had a distinct sensation of cobwebs being draped over her mind, just a bit of a sleepy mist she was seeing everything through, as if she had only just awoken. But she had nothing, really, to do, except to wait, and Akarui had said it would be a few hours if they got here at all. She turned to look at him. "Would it be possible for me to get a bit of sleep before they arrive?"

(Certainly.) There was a brief pause. (There is a bedroom through that door,) and at that precise moment a door to Anna's left swung open soundlessly, (that should have all the amenities you desire or require.)

Anna nodded graciously and departed the room.

---

"I'm sick of waiting," Versiver muttered. "Akarui and Oebr and Menteur, damn him, are interfering. It's taking too long. What are they doing?"

"They are in Akarui's castle. They had to make something of a detour."

"My son is going to rule Askavi the minute he returns with the Black Widow, and he had to make a _detour?_ Are you mad?"

Kennesra's eyes narrowed.

"I--didn't mean it that way," Versiver snapped.

"He didn't have a choice. Oebr has enlisted the aid of the Hell's Angels, Yachesa and--"

"I know their names. Couldn't your brother have helped, like last time?"

"Kennesval is--busy."

"Too busy to help his sister?"

"Yes. Leave it, Versiver."

Versiver narrowed his eyes. "Then why hasn't Skaviar had any success?"

"You only sent him out half a day ago. Even Skaviar, your precious 'perfect tool', won't get results that quickly."

"I simply have a bad feeling about this."

"What part of it?"

"Skaviar." Versiver pursed his lips and stood up, strode about the chamber. "Skaviar. I don't think he'll do as I told him."

"You know what Skaviar is like. He will finish his task through any means necessary. If you didn't detail exactly what you wanted him to do…"

"I told him to find Luseik, the Black Widow, Satiyen, and Keskes, and bring them back to Hayll alive."

"Alive?"

"Alive."

"If there is a problem, that will be where it lies. 'Alive' can mean a great deal of things."

"I specifically forbade him to kill them."

"But did you forbid him to incapacitate them?"

There was a thick silence.

"I did not."

"We can attempt to contact him, but by now, he will be inside Akarui's castle, and you know as well as I that the castle is spelled against psychic threads from outside."

"Then the only way we could contact him… But you said your brother was busy."

"I could… try to pull him away from his work."

Versiver narrowed his eyes. "I think there is something you and Kennesval are not telling me."

"There is nothing," Kennesra snapped. She got up and strode out of the room.

Versiver stared at the door and slowly shook his head. "And now I know there is something you are not telling me."

---

Althemen froze as the scream echoed through the corridor.

Satiyen came up beside him. "That was Alnevar," he breathed.

"I know his voice," Althemen muttered. "And whomever is holding him, they have a lot to learn about remaining in secret. I know exactly where that scream came from… And we're going to get him."

"Wait, I thought you hated him. Why save him? Not that I don't want to, but you…"

"As I told Luseik, I want Alnevar dead. But I will be the one to send him back to the Darkness. Not Luseik. Not Akarui. And not anyone else."

---

"You're very lucky."

Alnevar scoffed, grimacing as pain shot through his arm when he shifted to look at the man.

"How do you figure that?"

"Your friends decided your scream was worth investigating. Which means, of course, that unless they lose interest, I won't have to break anything else. This room is rather confined for my tastes, but I think I could adapt my fighting style quite nicely to work in here."

"Fighting?"

"Dear Alnevar, you didn't think I was luring them in here to have tea with them, did you? No, no! I have to bring them to Lord Versiver."

"Versiv--That's the guy we're going to see!"

"Somehow, from the way you headed straight here after you exited the Gate rather than making your way to Hayll, Lord Versiver doubts that."

"No, Versiver's got it wrong. A dragon named Oebr told us to come here. When he told us why, we could hardly refuse. And besides, by now we can't leave, because Oebr's brother has Anna."

The man's right eyebrow slowly crept toward the top of his head. "Oh? I was… not informed of this."

"Maybe Versiver's information wasn't exactly accurate."

"Perhaps such is the case."

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"What are you going to do now?"

"Oh, my plans have changed significantly. But bringing your friends here is still a priority."

Alnevar growled. "Can't you let me get up, at the very least?"

"Ah, remove the bonds. Yes, I suppose that is acceptable."

A lazy gesture, and the ropes that held Alnevar vanished. He massaged his wrists and stood up. He started to stretch his wings, but froze when he noticed the man staring at them with something very like regret.

When there was no response, he raised an eyebrow. "Hello?"

"What?" The man seemed to come out of a trance. "I'm sorry. Your wings, I just…"

"What's your name?" Alnevar said suddenly.

There was a slight pause. "Skaviar."

"Ah." That was all Alnevar said, but his thoughts kept speaking internally. _Skaviar is an Eyrien name. But this man has no wings. Which explains the depressed look in his eyes._ He snapped his wings shut and kept them behind him, out of Skaviar's line of sight.

"You do realize your arm is still broken, do you not?"

Alnevar narrowed his eyes. "I don't know if everyone does or if I'm just lucky, but I always seem to go numb to the pain of a broken bone after a while."

"And how many times have you broken bones?"

"Too many to count. Of my own, I'd say about four," Alnevar said without a trace of a smile.

Skaviar grinned. "I suppose I could say the same, although I've never broken one of my own bones."

Alnevar's eyes narrowed again a split second before he dashed forward, catching Skaviar by surprise. He slipped under the man's startled punch and grabbed Skaviar's outstretched arm, taking only a split second to get the leverage he needed to throw the man using only his good arm. Skaviar landed flat on his back and yelped as the breath was effectively knocked out of him, but immediately began attempting to rise. Alnevar didn't waste the moment. He slipped forward with Eyrien skill and by the time Skaviar was on his knees, Alnevar caught him in the stomach with his knee, and yanked him to his feet. He planted his good hand in Skaviar's back and slammed him face first into the wall. Skaviar collapsed. Alnevar backed away. When Skaviar didn't seem about to get up, Alnevar made for the door.

He was at the door and had laid his hand on it when something brushed the back of his head. He spun around. Skaviar still lay where Alnevar had left him. The half-Eyrien peered at the unconscious man and took a few steps toward him.

Alnevar was perhaps three yards away from Skaviar when Skaviar's head shot up, and his arm extended a ridiculous distance to catch Alnevar's ankle and yank, pulling the startled half-Eyrien to the floor. Before Alnevar could rise, Skaviar was above him, and had a knife at his throat.

"You dropped me! You actually dropped me! I have got to congratulate you on that one, half-breed. You're the first to drop me ever since I became this wonderful creature. Because you see, as you have no doubt figured out, I was once an Eyrien."

"Losing your wings doesn't change your species," Alnevar said quietly. "The loss of your wings doesn't change the fact that you're still an Eyrien."

Skaviar burst out laughing. "Oh, may the Darkness be merciful, you actually--"

"What?" Alnevar demanded. "What the hell are you laughing about?"

Skaviar immediately stopped laughing and pressed the knife to Alnevar's throat, his expression hard. Alnevar suddenly realized he couldn't move a single muscle in his body, though why, he couldn't tell. He was also frustrated and confused when he realized he was still breathing. Even that stopped when he saw a pair of huge black membranous wings unfold behind Skaviar. The man smiled slowly, revealing several rows of pointed fangs.

"You ought to learn not to interrupt people. As I was saying. I. Was. Once. Eyrien. No more, though. No, I told you that you were the first to drop me since I became…" He raised his free hand in front of Alnevar's eyes so that the half-Eyrien could watch as it molded itself from a hand, to a twisted claw, to an almost comical hook attached at the wrist, and finally, back to a hand, "this. And don't think it's only my hands that can change. I can change my appearance as much as I want, with only the most obscure limitations. And shifting my appearance, Alnevar, is not the only benefit of what I am." He moved the knife slightly so that Alnevar could see it was attached at the wrist. It shifted back to a hand which immediately pressed up against Alnevar's throat. "You are becoming a nuisance, Alnevar. I released you from your bonds because you made me believe I could trust you to stay where you were. You betrayed that trust, and so," he lifted Alnevar solely by his neck, and dragged the still-paralyzed half-Eyrien to a chair, where he dropped him lazily and let Alnevar slump over sideways.

"You are a very interesting character, Alnevar," Skaviar muttered as he knelt before Alnevar to stare into his eyes. Alnevar started to slip sideways, out of the chair, and Skaviar caught him by the shoulder. "Sorry. I forgot." He reached forward and tapped the side of Alnevar's neck, and Alnevar found himself free.

"What the hell did you do?" Alnevar demanded.

"I told you not to interrupt," Skaviar said, shrugging. Before Alnevar could think to get up, Skaviar made yet another lazy gesture and Alnevar found himself under some other strange magic. He was free to move in any way he pleased, but every time he attempted to rise, his legs would not respond. He also discovered that when he inevitably tried to strike Skaviar, his arm hung lifelessly.

"How are you doing this?"

"Alnevar," Skaviar said, once again settling into a kneeling position in front of the sitting half-Eyrien. "Your companions are likely to be here soon." He leaned forward so that he was face to face with Alnevar. His eyes, pale grey circles interrupted only in the center by gleaming spots of darkness, were two inches at most from Alnevar's own. His breath, a strange but not unpleasant scent of something like cloves, permeated Alnevar's nostrils. "When they get here… We're friends. Is that clear?"

Alnevar didn't respond.

"I'll take that as a yes," Skaviar said. He smiled as he leaned back and then stood up. He walked past Alnevar and patted his arm in a friendly manner.

Alnevar threw his head back and choked down the scream as bone scraped bone.

Skaviar just laughed. "I am so sorry. I completely forgot about your arm. Did you know that when you're like me, you can instantly heal any injury? Watch."

Before Alnevar's eyes, Skaviar gripped his own arm and twisted, smiling widely as the room was filled with a horrible _crack_ and the bone protruded from his arm. Alnevar closed his eyes, but when he opened them, Skaviar was running his hand up and down the arm that, moments ago, looked as though it would be scarred forever, but now bore only a thin white line that vanished as Alnevar stared.

"It's so wonderful. And I discovered something else, you know. Once I came into being as I am, I discovered that really, no long, tedious procedure is necessary to create more creatures like me." Alnevar knew what he was getting at. He shook his head.

"No. I don't want you to."

Skaviar approached Alnevar, who still could not move to defend himself. He once again knelt by Alnevar and smiled coldly.

"All"--Skaviar gently slid one hand behind Alnevar's head--"I have"--He laid the other hand on Alnevar's shoulder, never once taking his hard grey eyes off of Alnevar's--"to do"--He kept his eyes level with the top of Alnevar's head and leaned forward so that his nose gently brushed against Alnevar's eyelashes--"is… this."


	13. Chapter 13: Brothers

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Office Word 2003)

---

Chapter XIII

Brothers

---

Althemen cautiously probed the room beyond the thick wooden door.

Fear, humor, pain, triumph, and two familiar presences, one more than the other.

This was it. He sensed Alnevar's mind inside this room, and…

His upper lip curled in a murderous snarl. Skaviar. Versiver's pet. He had to get rid of Skaviar. His duty to Menteur would not allow him to do otherwise.

"Alnevar is inside this room," he said. "And whoever snatched him is in there with him. Are we ready?"

Satiyen snorted. "Do you have to ask? We need to get Anna and get out of here. So let's get this over with."

Althemen smirked and laid a hand on the door. It was Grey-Locked.

"Why did he even bother?" Althemen muttered as he blew the Locking magic away with a thought.

The door swung open easily.

---

"Althemen! I never expected to see you here," Skaviar said when Althemen entered the room.

"We both know that isn't true," Althemen said in a low voice. "Skaviar, I don't know what your orders from Versiver were, but I can guess. We will leave as soon as we have Anna."

"Your friend--Oh! Forgive me! I'm so sorry. He's your brother, isn't he?" Skaviar put an ironic emphasis on the last two words, and finished with a warm smile. Althemen's scowl deepened.

"As I was saying," Skaviar continued blithely on, "your... brother... Alnevar has already informed me of your current objective, and I'd like to help, as it will further my own mission."

"We don't need help," Althemen said bluntly. "We're fully capable of completing our set task without the aid of a lapdog like you."

"My, my, Althemen, are you still sore over what happened all those years ago?"

"My life was already a living Hell, Skaviar, but somehow you found a way to destroy even that. 'Sore' doesn't begin to describe it."

"You need to work on your people skills, Althemen. You have enough enemies as it is without making more. Now, I'm going to make my offer again, and I trust you'll accept. Althemen, Alnevar here has informed me as to what you're doing here, and I would like to aid you in that. You'll allow me to do that. Won't you?"

Althemen narrowed his eyes.

"You see, Skaviar, intimidation doesn't work on me."

Skaviar smiled. "Of course not. But I know something that will work on you. Would you like me to try it?"

Althemen paled visibly. He snarled. "Fine," he snapped. "Then get your ass moving."

Skaviar laughed as he swept past Althemen out of the room. "And you said intimidation doesn't work on you," he said quietly as he passed the Warlord Prince. Althemen clenched and unclenched his fists.

He looked up to see Alnevar, sitting in the same chair he'd been sitting in since Althemen had entered the room.

Althemen stared at Alnevar. Something was different about him. Something Althemen didn't like. Well, he'd always hated the scheming bastard, but something else was different. His insides grew cold. He spun around and grabbed Skaviar. "What did you do to Alnevar?" he demanded.

"Hm? Oh, nothing to worry about. But you two might get along better now that you have something in common."

Althemen was only vaguely aware of letting go of Skaviar as the room spun.

_Alnevar?_ Alnevar was like him now. No, no, a thousand times no, this could not have happened. Everything would be ruined if--

"Althemen, are you okay?" Satiyen sounded worried. Althemen shook his head violently and looked at Satiyen.

"I'm fine," he said quietly. "Go find Anna. I'll catch up in a few minutes."

Satiyen stared at Althemen for a long time.

"I need to talk with Alnevar," Althemen said. "Please, Satiyen."

Satiyen finally nodded and turned. "Well? Let's get moving."

Althemen closed the door once he was certain they were gone and turned to Alnevar.

"Did you know what he was doing while he did it?" he said flatly.

Alnevar nodded. "Yeah. But I couldn't do anything."

"Mm. Like you would've."

Alnevar growled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"All right, Alnevar, I'm sick of your aggravating ignorance as to the situation, and now that you're like me, you need to know what's going on anyway."

"What?"

"Shut up and listen, Alnevar. I'm not going to tell this story twice. The first thing you need to know is this: What Skaviar is, what he made you, I am also. We are now the same. The second thing you need to know is that my age is not one thousand years. I'm closer to three thousand. And, as you may have guessed from my recent… slips," he said with distaste, because in all actuality he was disgusted with himself for letting the secret show like that, "I'm not your brother. We're not related. You and I have been living a lie for the past thousand years. And you, Alnevar, are just as old as I am."

"What? Althemen, this doesn't make any sense."

"It will soon enough."

---

_As the Kjerans held him down, Alnevar looked to the one person he could hope to get help from--Althemen. But the man simply stared at Alnevar coldly while Sesven strapped him down._

_"One thing is a definite," Sesven said ironically. "You'll never cause us any trouble again."_

_Althemen cut in. "We both know, Sesven, that Menteur is not the reason we're doing this to him."_

_"And we both also know, Althemen, that you're a good friend of Menteur as well as a trusted agent of this organization, and that by doing what he did to you, he may as well have spat on Menteur's shoes."_

_Althemen lowered his gaze to the half-conscious man now restrained completely, staring up at him, his eyes showing nothing but fear and confusion._

_"You had your chance to redeem yourself after what you did," Althemen said, struggling to keep his voice calm, "and you passed it by. I'm sorry, Alnevar, but I can't forgive you. And at this point, my forgiveness wouldn't save you anyway."_

_"I told you, Althemen, please, I didn't know! How could I have known? She never said anything--"_

_"Stop it," Althemen said suddenly. "Stop begging, Alnevar. It doesn't suit you."_

_"Althemen, I'm honestly apologizing! What more can you want?"_

_Althemen slammed his hand onto the table inches from Alnevar's head. The trapped man flinched._

_"You think apologizing will undo the damage you've done? I hate you, Alnevar. I hate you more than you can ever understand."_

_"That's just it, Althemen, I don't understand. Please, just explain this to me, I want to know--I want to make it right!"_

_"You can't make it right. At this point, I don't think anyone can. I have nothing more to say to you." He turned. The Kjerans and Sesven approached Alnevar. Althemen left the room, ignoring Alnevar's screams as he went._

---

_"I'm sorry, Althemen."_

_"I've had enough of apologies!" Althemen burst out angrily. "In the past few days, it seems all anyone's done is apologize to me!"_

_Menteur pursed his lips. "Perhaps it is because we feel you have been wronged."_

_"Yes, I have been wronged, but not by you, Lord. I require no apologies, nor do I desire any. I just want to return to my old way of living."_

_"Althemen, I have received several suggestions, and I agree with them. I think that in the interest of the workings of this organization, you should take a week or so for yourself. I have arranged so that your absence will not be a problem."_

_Althemen shook his head. "I'll get over this more quickly and effectively, Lord, if I am given work to take my mind off of it."_

_Menteur sighed. "Althemen, we've found out what Alnevar was up to."_

_"I already know."_

_"Then you know that we can't allow him to continue in our service."_

_"That seems obvious to me."_

_Menteur took a deep breath. "We're going to clear his mind of any memories of his life here, and alter some of his memories. We're going to place him in Terreille."_

_"You'll need someone to keep an eye on him, in case the memory wipe is incomplete, or something else goes wrong."_

_"Yes. We will."_

_Althemen sucked in a deep breath. "No. No, I'm not."_

_"No one else has the background you do, Althemen. You're the only one we can use."_

_"There must be someone else suitable for the job, Lord. I can't go."_

_"Althemen, we're sending someone else as well. Someone whose memory had to be cleared and altered."_

_Althemen's eyes widened. "Surely, you don't mean…"_

_"Tesora."_

---

_Althemen stared at Tesora, his throat tight. He knew, damn it, he knew she didn't know who he was, but he couldn't help it. This was the woman he'd once loved, the woman he'd asked to marry him, and behind his back, Alnevar had destroyed everything. Stupid winged fool._

_The thought of Alnevar's wings reminded Althemen of his own charade. The wings on his back that he'd shaped from his own substance after the procedure. They were laughable, miniature things; they were the biggest wings he could form without diminishing his own size by using substance from his own body. With practice and time, he could learn to pull substance from the air around to make real wings, but as Menteur had made painfully obvious, they didn't have time. So Althemen played the part of unfortunate, small-winged half-Eyrien as he met Tesora for what was for neither of them the first time, but felt, to him, likeit was. Tesora was, after all, a different woman._

_"What's wrong, Althemen?" Tesora said, tilting her head slightly to the side._

_"Nothing, Mother," he said hastily, turning away. Damn it. All of this, this chaos, this mess, it could all have been prevented if Alnevar…_

_He stood up and left the room, unable to stay in the room any longer._

---

Alnevar stared at Althemen, his eyes wide. He didn't remember a single one of the events Althemen detailed, but under present circumstances, believing him was all he could do. "Althemen, I never--I am so sorry, Althemen."

Althemen smiled bitterly. "Of course. Just as you said back then. But I've had plenty of time to get over it, Alnevar, and I understand that… you might have done things differently given a second chance. I still don't like you, but I can put that aside for now."

Alnevar shook his head. "If what you say is true, then I'm just like you now."

"Yes. But reshaping your body takes practice, which we can work on later. For now, we have to catch up with the others. And Alnevar--"

"Yeah?"

"This conversation never happened. While we were in here, I was making sure Skaviar didn't hurt you. All right?"

"Sure thing."

---

"Alnevar's been informed of his and Althemen's past. It is likely that now that he's been told, as well as because of Skaviar making him a rubis, the memory alterations made will weaken and falter."

"He will remember everything."

"Most likely."

"That can't be allowed to happen."

"Of course, Lord."

"He'll have to be disposed of."

"It will be done."


	14. Chapter 14: Grudges

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter XIV

Grudges

---

Althemen's eyes were trained on the back of Alnevar's head as they walked down the corridor, though his mind was elsewhere. Alnevar was amusing himself by warping his hands into strange shapes and then letting them snap back again. The night was moving forward steadily. Morning would come soon. Althemen and Alnevar had caught up with the rest of the group and were making progress through the castle, tedious if steady. They were forced to check each and every door, and they were lucky not to come across any branching off into more corridors.

The night proceeded uneventfully until Skaviar slowed his pace to walk beside Althemen. Althemen emitted a slight snarl but held his tongue.

"Ooh, still a feisty little bugger, I see," Skaviar said. Althemen didn't respond. "Silent treatment? Aw, too bad for me. But I could always force your hand, you know."

"What do you want, Skaviar?" Althemen growled.

"Oh, just a little smile once and again! You're so somber these days, with the black hair and the clothes like you're attending a funeral. You used to be a handsome, young, blonde boy, searching for a Queen to serve. Yet in under a millennium, you've changed so completely."

"Circumstances have changed a great deal," Althemen muttered.

"Still, haven't you ever heard that every cloud has a silver lining?"

"And every cloud brings a chance of rain, now, will you please leave me be?" Althemen clenched his teeth.

"Oh, don't be mad at me, I haven't done anything wrong." Skaviar smiled widely. Althemen wanted to retch. "Like I said," Skaviar said cheerfully, then dropped his voice, "I could always force your hand."

Althemen paled and clenched his teeth again. "Then what the hell do you want me to do?"

"I've already told you," Skaviar chirped. "Just be a little more cheerful. Shouldn't be that hard for you. You were so happy when you first set your sights on that fine young lady, Tes--"

Althemen snapped. He spun and grabbed Skaviar by the neck with his left hand, the same hand instantly shifting its form to resemble a solid clamp. Skaviar's own left hand solidified to an almost metallicsubstance and cannoned into Althemen's gut. Althemen gasped for breath and stumbled backwards, dropping Skaviar, who grinned sadistically and went at Althemen. An instant later, Skaviar shrieked and collapsed in a heap. He shook slightly, but did not move otherwise.

Althemen had felt a wave of dark energy fly past him and assault Skaviar. When he looked back, he saw Luseik staring calmly at the twitching man on the floor. Luseik slowly rose one hand and aimed it in the general direction of Skaviar, and Althemen scrambled out of the way as Skaviar's body shuddered, rose to a vaguely standing position, emitted another shriek, and vanished. Skaviar's clothing fell to the ground in a heap, along with a soft _chink_.

Althemen fell upon the heap instantly, pulling from it a small chip of an Ebon-Gray Jewel. Before anyone else could see it, he vanished it and turned to face Luseik.

Luseik didn't seem to see him. The draghan was still staring at the heap of clothing.

Althemen rose slowly to a standing position, his eyes trained on Luseik, and approached the draghan slowly. He stopped about an arm's length away from Luseik, who still seemed to be staring through Althemen at the clothing heap. Althemen vaguely noticed the others staring from up ahead, but nobody was moving.

Althemen cleared his throat. Luseik slowly turned his gaze upward to Althemen's eyes. For a moment they stood silently, each trying to glean whatever information they could from the other's eyes.

Finally, Luseik nodded almost imperceptibly and said, "You owe me for that." With an uncharacteristicallyfriendly grin, he turned and made his way back to the others. Althemen stared after him and then glanced briefly back at where Skaviar had been. He remembered the Jewel chip, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"And now, only Kreethen can pose a problem," he muttered. "Irritating little prick always reminded me of Skaviar, but he works for Menteur, so it shouldn't be too dangerous to let him wield whatever power he can muster over me." He smiled to himself and followed Luseik.

---

The man began to laugh quietly. He played idly with the shard of an Ebon-Gray Jewel he held between the fore- and middle fingers of his right hand.

"Muster?" he whispered. His hand clamped shut on the Jewel piece and a sharp edge sliced through his hand. Blood ran from the wound as he began to laugh louder. The blood dripped on the floor, sizzled gently, and then grew silent. His laugh raised in volume and pitch and his hand did not stop bleeding. A small, steady stream of blood poured from his clenched fist. The growing pool of blood on the floor was burning through the stone, creating a small cloud of smoke about itself that hovered near the area. The man was cackling, and showed no signs of quieting. There was a large hole in the floor, easily large enough for a grown man to fall through. The man was shrieking with high pitched laughter, shaking violently as the acidic blood fell in torrents from his fist. The skin of his hand itself appeared to remain unharmed, though the entire room smelled of burnt flesh. Finally, the laughter was cut off. He moved his fist in front of him and opened it. The blood flow ceased, the Jewel chip fell the floor before him.

"I don't need to muster power," the man snarled. "I don't even have to use my power. And if Menteur hasn't told you of my little defection, well... I'd say you two have grown apart over the years."

He lowered his head to face the ground. His eyes eased closed. "You, Althemen…"

His head snapped back up and he drew his tongue across sharpened fang-like teeth. His lips were drawn back in a hungry, animalistic grin. "You don't know what I am."

Throughout Akarui's entire castle, a howl resounded loudly from the walls.

---

_"Awoooo…" _Althemen froze instantly, as did the rest of the group.

_He can't be here,_ Althemen thought hastily. "But that's his howl."

Alnevar looked at Althemen. "What?" Alnevar said, tilting his head slightly.

Althemen's eyes widened. "Nothing," he said. Alnevar let it drop, but Althemen could tell he wasn't satisfied.

---

_As the prophecy went,_ Akarui thought resignedly, _"Only one of the three can prosper." It's only a shame that I must try to harm those my twobrothers promote._

---

_Yachesa slammed into the side of the building. She screamed in agony as the wounds left in her back by the lash reopened. "No!" she screamed. "No, no, Yachesen!"_

_The boy cowered as the huge man raised his arm and struck the boy across the face. Yachesen cried out and was thrown to the side. Yachesa flew at him and hovered above him. The huge man raised his foot and knocked the girl away._

_"No!" Yachesa screamed. "No! Leave Yachesen alone! Don't hurt my brother!" she shrieked through sobs as she tried to get up again._

_The huge man kicked her brother. The small boy crumpled and did not move. Yachesa screamed again and tried to crawl toward him. The huge man reached the boy first and picked him up by the shoulders. The boy's head lolled freely. Yachesa's sobs and screams drowned out all other sounds as the huge man easily snapped the boy's neck and tossed the body aside. He turned to Yachesa._

_Yachesa hadn't stopped crying. She lay on her side, shaking, racked with sobs, as the huge man approached._

_The huge man raised his foot behind him, with a sadistic grin on his face. He brought his foot down in a wide arc._

_Yachesa uncurled rapidly, and that movement alone startled the man into a brief stupor. She latched onto his leg and sank her teeth into the back of his leg. Yachesa discharged her Black energy into the man's body and he emitted a scream of his own before he crumpled._

_Yachesa trembled and scrambled away from the man. Her surroundings were rippling, undulating. She was losing track of what was real and what was not. She crawled toward her brother and held him in her arms, smoothing his black hair, stroking his young face, still twisted in an expression of unadulterated fear, the tears not yet dried on his cheeks._

_It's not done, Yachesa, we can win, it's not over until the final death. Make them, use them. It will be fine. You will have power. We will have power. We can live again. We can take our vengeance on the world that abandoned us. We will rise again._

_Die, tainted seeds._

---

Yachesa threw the sheets back and screamed. The door eased open.

"Yachesa? What is wrong?"

Her brother. Her brother. Yachesen. No, no, Yachesen. No, Yachesen. No.

"N-nothing," she whispered.

Yachesen nodded. "Very well." he turned and left the room.

Yachesa stared at the door and shook slightly.

I did this. I did this to him. He's like this and it's my fault. It's my fault. My fault. I did it. I'm to blame. I was supposed to protect him, and I let this happen to him.

No, Yachesen! No! No! It wasn't meant to happen this way! I didn't mean to let you suffer like you did! Yachesen, you…

Yachesa swung her legs off the bed and planted them on the floor. She stared at the far wall. She remembered a time, so many long years ago… She'd woken up from a horrible nightmare and she'd been screaming. It was a faded memory, but she remembered it was cold, so cold. They'd been traveling, they were in Glacia. They were sleeping at an inn in Glacia. That, yes, that was why it was so cold. Yachesa had screamed. So cold. She'd screamed. Her brother had instantly rushed to her side and held her. It was so cold, but her brother, her younger brother's embrace, was so warm, so comforting, that she'd stopped screaming and the tears rolling down her cheeks had stopped. She'd let her brother comfort her until she had forgotten the dream completely.

But now… Yachesen had simply nodded and closed the door.

Her younger brother would not have just closed the door. He would have persisted until she told him of her dream. He would have cheered her up as only he knew how.

And what really hurt was that she _needed_ him to comfort her. She was his older sister, she was the one who was supposed to protect him, to help him, and to keep him safe from harm, and yet she needed him to fall back on when things were too much. Had he always known that? Had Yachesen always known how important he was to her? She'd always let him know that she was there for him, but did she ever make it clear that he was important to her as well? Could he have known…?

She would start crying in a moment, she knew. She always did.

Because she'd failed him, after all. She'd failed in her duty as his older sister, of course. He relied on her, and her alone, to protect him, and she had let him down. And that, she would never live down. How could she? With the evidence of her crime against her brother, her brother himself, never more than a door away, how would she ever forget what she had done? And why, _why_ would she want to forget? If she forgot, what would prevent her from doing it again? What more would she, through her own negligence and stupidity, inflict upon her helpless little brother?

She had a pillow clenched in her hands, pressed to her face, and she was hunched over, sobbing into it.

The door was closed, the room was dark, and she was alone.

Alone.

No concerned little brother. Nothing at all.

She was alone.

She'd really been alone for years, ever since her brother had died and become demon-dead. Something inside of him besides his life had been taken away. She had remained the same after the natural death but he… _Something_ about him had been horribly changed forever.

And now, because of _her, her, her,_ now the damage was irreversible, and now it was big. Something she couldn't just pretend hadn't happened. Her brother was dead inside. And that, that was the horrible truth that she hadn't really admitted until now.

Yachesen, despite his demon-dead body and his intelligence, was dead inside.

And because Yachesa knew it was her fault, she was slowly dying inside too. Every nightmare, every memory she relived stripped away another layer of herself. How much more could she take? How much more of this self-abuse could she take before she gave up, crumbled, became like her brother?

What sickened her beyond anything was the fact that whenever she asked herself that question, the concept of losing her own sanity, her own Self, made her go even colder than the fact that it had already happened to her brother. Did that make her even more of a failure? Could someone as horrible as she even _be_ more of a failure?

The girl was lying on her side, staring blankly at the far wall, still clutching the pillow. Her tears had stopped. Her face was expressionless even as the thoughts raced through her mind. Her face was lifeless. Dead.

Just like her brother.

Yachesa screamed.


	15. Chapter 15: Emotions

--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter XV

Emotions

(It's an extended episode--The Season Finale!)

---

Anna stared at the ceiling as she lay in the huge, comfortable bed. When would Luseik come? _Would _Luseik come? Was it possible that even with all of their abilities and strengths, her friends--and father and uncle, she reminded herself--would not be able to help her? Would she have to get out of this on her own?

"Anna!" a familiar, friendly voice said from the floor next to the bed. Anna leaned over to see Keski staring up at her. She picked him up and set him down on the bed.

"Anna, what's going on? Why are you working with the bad guys?" Keski asked, sounding a little hurt.

"Don't worry," Anna whispered. "I'm fooling them. Akarui--"

"No one is fooling anybody," said a familiar, not-so-friendly voice from the doorway.

Dicrus, the demon-dead draghan, stood in the doorway grinning horrendously at Anna and Keski, who snarled and grew spines out of his shadowy self in an attempt to intimidate. He unleashed Black power at Dicrus.

In an invisible flash, _something_ shot out of Dicrus' body and collided with the power. It turned back and engulfed Keski. With a piercing shriek, the gejk fell backward and went limp, taking on the texture of a slightly viscous substance.

Anna veritably leapt off the bed and stood facing Dicrus. "How dare you hurt Keski!" she hissed.

"How dare I hurt him? In case you didn't notice, the little bastard was attacking _me_. All I did was turn his own power back onto himself."

Anna bared her teeth. He tried to attack her with a rapid shot of Gray energy, but her own nullification caused it to fizzle out before it ever came close. She leapt at him, enhancing her own rather lacking physical strength with power from her Jewels as she pummeled him with her fists.

She wasn't even budging him. And then she realized that her Jewels were not doing their task of enhancing her strength--in fact, they weren't doing anything at all.

A cold, clammy hand locked around her neck.

"Your little friends are already locked up safe and tight," Dicrus hissed in her ear. "Akarui is onto your scheme, and we had our own trump card all along just waiting for a chance to use it on you fools. You want to see your friends? Fine. But I'll be feasting on the blood of each and every one of you soon enough."

Anna opened her mouth to cry out but was silent as a wave of Gray power washed over her mind, weakening but not knocking her out, and then a psychic tendril engulfed her mind, suggesting, as it had to Alnevar so many hours ago on the rooftop, that she simply relax, close her eyes, and… take a little nap…

---

_Several minutes earlier_

Satiyen slowed his pace to walk alongside Althemen, unable to resist any longer, and posed the question that was on all of their minds.

"So, who was that Skaviar guy?" he said quietly.

"He was an old friend," Althemen muttered.

"Didn't seem like much of a friend to me."

"Yeah, well, I said 'was,' didn't I?"

Satiyen laughed dryly. "And who's Kreethen?"

Althemen stopped walking and was silent for a few seconds. Satiyen stopped walking as well and watched Althemen. It seemed Althemen might curse, snap, insult someone--but he resumed his walk and muttered, "Another old friend."

Satiyen resumed his walk as well, frowning. "A Skaviar-friend, or a friend-friend?"

Althemen closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "He used to be a friend-friend, but as the years went by, he became more of a Skaviar-friend."

Satiyen sighed. "Althemen, I don't mean to offend you or upset you, and if I have, I apologize. I'm merely curious."

Althemen stopped walking abruptly, and it seemed again as if he might fly into a rage. But when he turned to face Satiyen, the impression he gave was exactly the opposite. He looked like a kicked puppy for a split second before he resumed his usual expression. His eyes were cold and hard, revealing nothing, and his posture was strong and intimidating. But the hand he gently laid on Satiyen's shoulder was shaking slightly.

"Satiyen," he said quietly, "please don't take offense if I seem angry with you. I know that I have a temper that could scare almost anyone off."

Satiyen smiled weakly and nodded, unsure of what else to do. Althemen seemed about to collapse underneath that façade of angry, hostile masculinity.

"I want to ask something of you, Satiyen," Althemen said tentatively. Imagine--Althemen, tentative! Satiyen nodded again. "If you ever see that I am becoming worked up over nothing, or if I ever seem about to do something foolish, please, don't be afraid to tell me so."

Satiyen nodded a third time. "I won't. And don't worry, Althemen, I know first-hand what it's like having a temper like yours. It isn't something you were born with. And it's not something you'll die with, Althemen."

Althemen seemed to ponder this last statement and he smiled weakly. "Yeah."

---

Alnevar had been staring at Satiyen for some time now, occasionally glancing around as if searching for something, but always returning his gaze to Satiyen. Finally Satiyen approached him and asked, "Is there a reason for you to be staring at me?"

"Sorry," Alnevar said quickly, "Just wondering where Keskes went."

Satiyen froze. "You're right! I haven't seen him in at least an hour!"

The hallway seemed to grow deathly silent a split second before a shrill laugh permeated the entire hallway. The lights dimmed as something greenish flashed by over head. Althemen screamed and clutched at his skull. Something cannoned into him from behind and sent him sprawling. The thing never stopped moving at that impossible speed--it knocked out Althemen, then flew into Luseik and slammed him into a wall, turned about, and smashed into Alnevar. Satiyen turned to run and opened his mouth in a silent scream as he felt claws raking down his body and a terrible drowning sensation. Then everything faded.

---

Luseik was the first to rise. He was slumped over, his back against a damp stone wall. He realized immediately that he wasn't bound in any way, and he lit a ball of witchfire to let him see.

Everyone else was here--his heart skipped a beat as he realized that _everyone was here_--including Anna. All other observations were discarded immediately. He started to run to her unconscious form but stopped--would she still be mad at him? _Could_ she still be mad at him? The last thing she'd said to him… Their fight outside the castle… She'd called him a bastard. He'd tried to stop her, but she'd clawed his hand and kept walking.

His throat tightened just wondering if she had forgiven him. Screw all his masculine pride--he'd do anything if only she would forgive him!

"Mother Night," he whispered, and fell to kneel at her side, cradling her in his arms. "Anna, wake up, Anna, please," he whispered.

Althemen awoke now, and saw the same things Luseik had seen--and when he saw Anna, his heart also skipped a beat. He was at her side in an instant, checking for any physical wounds. Alnevar and Satiyen awoke simultaneously and Alnevar stared at the gathering while Satiyen joined and probed Anna's mind for any abnormalities.

Anna awoke, sitting straight upright, and everyone fell back a foot or so to give her room to breathe.

"Hell's fire, that son of a bitch put me to sl--" she froze as she stared around at everyone. Her gaze lingered on Althemen for one instant, Satiyen for two, and then stopped at Luseik. No one moved for at least a minute.

Anna fell forward onto Luseik, letting her arms drape over his shoulders and around his neck. The two embraced like this for a short while until finally, Anna pulled back and looked around. "What's going on?"

"You tell us," Alnevar murmured.

"All that S.O.B. Dicrus told me was that you guys were in a cellar. And he obviously wasn't lying."

Althemen sat back. "I suppose all we can do is wait. There are no entrances or exits to this room."

Satiyen snarled an unknown curse word in his native language and began to prowl around the cellar.

Luseik seemed unable to release Anna. He'd buried his face in her shoulder and that didn't seem likely to change any time soon.

"Luseik," Anna said quietly. He raised his head to look at her.

"Yes?" he said in the tone of a small child ready to be scolded.

Anna grinned and laughed. "You are so dense, you know that?"

He paused, raised an eyebrow, frowned, scowled, then sat back, confused. "Huh?"

"You actually think I'm still mad at you? I should slap you just for thinking I'm that shallow."

There was confused silence for a moment.

"Um," Luseik said, "well, okay."

"Hey!" Satiyen blurted out from the other side of the cellar, in the shadows, unlit by Luseik's witchfire. The ball grew in size to illuminate the entire room--except for a tiny ball of shadow at Satiyen's feet.

Satiyen and Anna both exclaimed at the same time, "Keski!"

Satiyen knelt to pick up the gejk and returned to the group in the light of the witchfire, cradling the unconscious ball of viscous shadows.

Anna spoke up now. "He tried to attack Dicrus with Black power, but it was somehow turned against him."

Satiyen froze. "It was turned _against_ him?"

"Yeah."

"Hell's fire, if Keski's still alive, he may not wake up for hours yet!"

Althemen plucked the unconscious thing out of Satiyen's paws. "He likes feeling useful, right?"

Satiyen nodded slowly, unsure of what Althemen was getting at.

"Hey! Keski!" Althemen shouted at Keski. "We're going to fight Akarui and Anna needs your help!"

Keski squirmed and a pair of gleaming red eyes snapped open. "Anna needs help? What?"

Althemen laughed and set the gejk down.

"Well," Satiyen said when everyone had stopped laughing, "that was some badly needed comic relief, eh?" There was general agreement, except from the confused Keski.

Everything grew quiet. It had nothing to do with their voices; the general ambient noise seemed to fade. The witchfire dimmed.

"No," Althemen muttered. "No, damn it, he's coming again-- He's coming to finish what he started back in the hall--" he broke off and clutched his skull, scrambling backward and screaming, twisting, writhing in agony. A greenish flash, and then there was a man standing in the room. His straight hair fell to his shoulders and was dyed a forest green to match the Jewel hanging from his neck. He wore a practical leather outfit that didn't restrict his movement, which suggested he was quite agile if his previous dashing about hadn't suggested the same thing.

Althemen was curled in a ball in the corner, his screaming intensified by the echo of the room.

"Oh, enough," the green-haired man snapped, and turned his head toward Althemen, who went limp and silent.

The stranger turned back toward the group and smiled. "Evening, beloved guests. I am Kreethen,"--Satiyen sucked in a breath--"and I have been asked to dispose of you all in a timely and efficient manner."

No one said anything. Luseik let his witchfire fade, but the room was only dark for a split second before Kreethen lit his own witchfire and smiled, baring his fangs. "You think I'm that foolish, to be caught with my guard down so easily? Ha! Ha ha!" he threw his head back and cackled. "Now, which one of you shall I kill first? There's the rubis in the corner, the draghan and his lover, the little gejk, or the wehr."

Anna was the first to realize he hadn't mentioned Alnevar, but didn't say anything.

Kreethen looked around the room. "The rubis would likely be most easy kill. He's already asleep. The draghan might be fun. His lover would be a bit of a challenge, but not if I don't use any magic. The wehr, though… Now _he's_ got claws."

Kreethen took a step forward. His eyes glinted sadistically in the firelight. Then he froze.

Blood bubbled up inside his mouth and over and down his chin. He looked down at the five black claws protruding from his stomach. Unfortunately, he wasn't a rubis, and the wounds remained open as the claws retracted and he bled. He fell to his knees. Without saying anything, he fell forward and died a quiet death.

Alnevar stood behind the dead man, staring in horror at his hand, which had transmuted itself into a solid black claw. Each of his razorblade fingers was at least three feet long, and each of them had just been pulled from Kreethen's body dripping blood. He fell and crawled backward almost as if trying to get away from his own hand, as if afraid it would cut him next.

Althemen had awoken again and seemed completely unaware of the pain he had just been, apparently, enduring. He approached Alnevar purposefully.

"Don't fear it," he said firmly. "Alnevar, don't fear it. If you fear it, you won't be able to change it. Accept it. It's a part of what you are now."

Alnevar shook his head. "It's not! I'm a half-Eyrien! Not--not this!"

Althemen snorted. "You are a rubis, and you can't change that. Not anymore. Just calm down, Alnevar, and accept what you are."

"I didn't do this! It isn't me!"

Althemen knelt by Alnevar and struck him soundly upside the head. Alnevar growled, but quieted.

"Regardless, you'll have those claws forever if you don't shut the hell up and figure out how to change it back, you dumbass. And you wonder why I dislike you."

Alnevar didn't respond. Althemen continued.

"Picture your hand. Your real hand. Not the claw."

Alnever closed his eyes.

"Now make that your hand."

"I can't."

"Can you make witchfire?"

"Y--"

"Can you float an object?"

"Ye--"

"Can you vanish an object?"

"Yes, damn it!"

"How do you do those things?"

"I can't explain it. It's basic Craft. You just do it."

"Exactly. You are a rubis. It's a fundamental part of your being to be able to change yourself at will will as little effort as basic Craft. Just imagine what you want to be, and make it happen."  
As if it had never been a claw at all, Alnevar's hand returned to normal and he stared at it for a long time.

Althemen, now that Alnevar had been taken care of, approached Kreethen's body and began to search it. Once he leant back and shoved something dark and shiny into his pocket, and then kept searching.

Finally he began to probe Kreethen's mind. He had a lot of psychic strength. He would be demon-dead soon without a doubt if they didn't finish the kill, but he may have useful informa--aha!

"We can get out," Althemen announced. He unleashed his Gray strength into the man's mind to burn it out, then stood up. "There's a secret entrance."

Luseik narrowed his eyes. "You mean like a loose stone or something?"

Althemen snorted. "Not quite that simple, but yes, similar." He approached the far wal and felt around on it, knocking softly until he found a hollow spot. He pressed his hand to it and unleashed just a trickle of his Birthright Sapphire strength into it, charging the wall with it instead of assaulting the wall. He waited for a moment, and then the wall silently faded. It hadn't been real to begin with; it had been an illusion, covered with something like a shield.

Beyond the wall now was a lighted room.

Not a hallway.

---

Akarui had his eyes closed as he contemplated various things.

_Only one of the three may prosper. Only one. I was so close. It's almost over now. I can only hope._

He opened his massive black eyes to see the group of two-legged creatures enter the room.

(You have made it,) he sent on a wide thread covering the entire room.

"You're damn right we've made it," the draghan snapped.

(It was not my will to cause any of you hardship,) Akarui said quietly. (And though I wish things could be otherwise, you must destroy me. Anna… When I am gone, so, too, will be the gift I gave you. But in the room in which you slept, there is a small box, and you may keep what is in that box if you so wish.)

"Enough talk," the draghan snarled. "You've caused us enough trouble already. It's time to finish this!"

Akarui closed his eyes. He remembered, long ago. How many lies had been told? How many falsehoods? How many conspiracies borne of the deception he and his brothers had wrought? Perhaps the numbers would never be known.

But he remembered back to the days when Lorn, Oebr, Akarui, and Versiver--When they had all been human. Landen, in fact. Before the Blood. Before the world had been split into the three living Realms. Before anything known as Craft or magic or even simple psychic abilities. And before courts, certainly.

They had brought it all about through their own meddling. The worlds had split. Three of them had been forced into the bodies of dragons. Lorn had been taken away, and of the remaining three, a prophecy made.

"Only one of the three can prosper."

Now it was clear who was meant. Versiver had wormed his way out of the punishment to begin with, gaining only the wings of a dragon instead of the body as well. He'd started the whole accursed race of draghans. And the power he claimed appeared in Anna and Dicrus? Please. Versiver couldn't lie to save his life. The power was natural to that cursed race, the draghans. It only ever manifested strongly in certain draghans, but they all had it. Versiver knew this. He lied to cover up his own crimes for which all four of them had been punished. But now it was finally coming to a close. The eternal punishment was over.

He evoked the one last spell he had. His dragon's form vanished and was replaced by that of an ordinary man. His hair was long; it fell to the small of his back and was black, lustrous, gleaming. His eyes were yellow and reflected light from nowhere as he stared at them. His skin was fair, almost pale.

"For countless millennia I have suffered here," he said softly, in a state of ecstasy merely at using his own voice again, "and I thank you all for removing me from this Hell once and for all." He closed his eyes and knelt before them all as if he were praying.

"What are you babbling about?" Luseik snapped. "We're here to kill you, not help you."

"Shut up!" Anna said suddenly. "Can't you see he's in pain?"

Luseik didn't respond, nor did he move to stop her as she hurried forward to Akarui. She knelt by him and touched his shoulders.

Akarui looked up at her slowly and smiled warmly. "It's all right, Anna," he said. "This was meant to happen. I'm ready to die. I've been ready to die for a long time. I've been alive longer than any Guardian in existence. Back away, Anna. I am done."

She shook her head. "I don't know what happened to you, Akarui, but we can help."

"I brought this on myself through curiosity and meddling," Akarui said softly. "It is my destiny and it cannot be changed."

Anna shook her head but was driven back gently yet firmly by an invisible force.

Luseik found himself compelled to walk forward by the same invisible force. He didn't resist it as it guided him to call in a dagger, as he raised it above his head without even trying. The invisible force gripped his wrist.

He didn't even resist until the dagger was halfway through its arc.

Akarui gasped, cried out in pain.

Blood spattered.

Anna screamed.

Akarui fell forward onto the floor. "Take…" he gasped. "Take… Take… your gift… Anna…"

And Akarui breathed his last.

- - - For a continuation, please look for - - -

The Fourth Realm 2: Prophecy of Old

Now up and ready for viewing!


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